Rush
by harperrose87
Summary: BOOK #5 [cont. of "HOPE"]: Six months after the Censure has taken control, William quickly becomes the face of the beginning rebellion, creating danger for his young family. Can he, Cara, Mulder and Scully, with the help of a magnetic stranger, reach safety in time? Can the past be buried long enough for the future to begin? (FINAL BOOK #6: "BELIEVE" online now!)
1. Author's Notes

Author's Notes:

Welcome to Book #1 of the post- Colonization series I've written! These stories follow directly after the post-IWTB/XF2 four-part series I wrote. With the exception of some key references to the first series, these books can be either read in sequence with the others or possibly as stand-alone stories of my interpretation of life beginning from 12/22/12 and on.

I've included the following basic notes about my writing, the characters, etc. for your personal benefit:

1. Because this is a series looking at the world in an unknown view, I retain many artistic liberties as to my depiction of what would happen should the Colonists dominate the earth. However, I strive greatly to keep the X-Files specific history from the original series legitimate and accurate, with only a few minor artistic liberties taken (mainly in conjunction with what has already been written in my series prior to this one). My goal is to bridge these stories to the past using a rich sampling of X-Files series history to provide continuity.

2. What this means, essentially, is I don't own a damn thing about the X-Files, only what I write, my depiction of the world post-Colonization and any additional characters that have not appeared on the show previously, including my adult interpretation of William (as well as the original cover artwork). You can bet your boots that if I owned the X-Files, there would be more movies, a new series and anything else I could dream up.

3. I display real people in my cover images for this series because when I dreamt up these tales, they are the faces that inspired the characters. Personally, this helps me to eliminate the guessing game of what a "new" person looks like while reading, allowing me to enjoy their personality attributes that come alive through the dialogue. The people I've modeled the characters I've introduced after physically, and maybe even some personality traits, are as follows:

**Brendan Fehr** (Will/William Mulder)  
**Jennifer Lawrence** (Cara/Caraline Mulder)  
**Liam Hemsworth** (Cyrus English)

The children, Maddox and Emma, are portrayed by child models.

Again, I don't own them. We'd all be in trouble if I did.

4. I believe in Mulder/Scully romance. They belong together. Period. So please don't expect them to just be friends or whatever. They are essentially married in my mind at this point in their lives. :) I believe, as well, in Doggett/Reyes, though I must admit to being responsible for their "permanent" elimination during this series. Ye have now been warned.

5. This story's rating hovers between a T and an M. Though the entire thing isn't dark, it also isn't all sunshine, puppies and rainbows. It's the end of the world, people. There are bound to be scary, unthinkable things happening in my interpretation of such a thing. But I promise, what is dealt with isn't super crazy or graphic, in my humble opinion. There are four letter (and five letter) words used thoughtfully to match the characters, setting, violence and implied scenarios. Don't want any of that? Then go no further than these notes. Again, ye have now been warned.

6. These stories of this new series are written for you, the fans. I swore up and down that I was done after I finished "Hope" though the ending was ambiguous and open (Hah! Yeah right!). However, I was truly inspired by the many people who have supported the continuation of the series. Each of the people who fell in love with William and Caraline, as well as the characters we all know and love, have motivated me to keep going. **So please, feedback in the form of reviews is essential! This is for you, kids. You're driving. You're moving me along with your candor, so don't forget to leave a little note letting me know how your journey is going! :)**

Thank you so very much for your support, love and energy - have an amazing adventure!


	2. Chapter 1

for the people on here who stuck with me since the beginning -  
hopefully you know who you are and how much your support means to me

* * *

**RUSH**

\ˈrəsh\

verb

to move forward, progress, or act with haste or eagerness or without preparation

* * *

_"Every minute of every day we choose. Who we are, who we forgive, who we defend and protect.  
To choose a side or to walk the line, to play the middle, to straddle the fence between what is and what should be.  
This was the course I chose. Trying to find the delicate balance of interests that can never exist.  
Choosing by not choosing. Defending a center which can't hold.  
So death chose for me."_

_- Walter Skinner, "S.R.819"_

* * *

CHAPTER 1

June 22, 2013  
Kodiak Island, AK  
8:39 AM AKST

Six months. The world had been ending for exactly six months today, a cool, dreary Saturday with imposing drizzle from thick, gray clouds lingering overhead. Another day to potentially have to use the dryer, which was another upward spike in the electric bill they already struggled to pay. It couldn't be avoided, though. Two kids - fraternal twins - growing and developing at a previously thought impossible and inhumanly fast rate and a husband who worked as a lumberjack for a minimum of twelve hours a day six days a week kept the laundry basket full. Clothes had to be washed, and the sun didn't always shine.

In fact, the sun had only shone on Kodiak Island thus far as many times as she could count on a single hand during their six months of living there. Had she failed to see the Alaska license plate on the rust-bucket car they owned, she would have sworn she was in Seattle.

Regardless of where they were on the face of the earth, the story was the same. _They_ had arrived. Of course, people didn't know who _they_ were or how _they_ had even arrived. All they could see were the countless "deaths" with more every day adding to the tally from an unstoppable virus being spread. Most of the population speculated over lavish theories fed to them by the press, in conjunction with the Federal Emergency Management Agency, of rare diseases transported in from overseas, causing people to become convinced that USA-grown produce was the safest. She was one of the unfortunate few who knew the grim and dank truth of the tragedies to befall the nation over the last several months. The virus was in a necessary and seemingly innocent source - food. Specifically, the food grown right in America's own backyard by the same people who deemed it safe, FEMA. She knew where the virus hid - in the produce aisle of nearly every grocery store now in the nation and expanding over the world, tucked away in stalks of corn and under peels of bananas, beneath the thin skin of tomatoes and the textured wraps of oranges, inside the center of carrots and in the florets of overpriced broccoli. It was there, and there was nothing that anyone could do about it.

Pretty soon, they would begin to invade the canned and frozen foods (if they hadn't already - not many were willing to take the risk), leaving very little untouched. The beef and mutton that was butchered came from cows and sheep fed tainted grass, the pigs and poultry fed the diseased scraps of vegetables and garbage. Seafood was quickly becoming the only thing left untainted, thanks to their precious daughter, which the young family consumed at every meal. So long as the girl roamed the God-forsaken earth they lived on, the water was pure. They ate from its depths, their home a prime location for fish, lobster and crab, though it quickly became overfished. Beggars couldn't be choosey; they ate what they could find themselves. Nothing more, nothing less.

Because of this, people who knew or came to know the truth as a whole had dropped a lot of weight and even died due to malnutrition, balanced diets a luxury those with knowledge couldn't risk. Those with both the inside information of the secret and the means took advantage of the business opportunity mass panic created, setting up markets in their homes and inflating prices based on demand, barter-based alliances offering untouched goods in exchange for services or cash. Milk from a cow or a goat fed grass grown in the safety of a private home was the most commonly desired commodity, especially for her family. The children grew faster than she could keep up with, their nutrition vital to their health and survival. She scrubbed toilets, floors and windows, changed sheets, dusted and vacuumed and even once bathed an elderly man for milk and eggs, dragging her young children along when the jobs came in exchange for goods and gloriously pure food.

Seeing the rapid growth of the twins, of course, made everyone suspicious of her and her family, her husband in turn receiving poor treatment at a dangerous job that paid minimum wage to begin with, though he easily was the most efficient worker because of his power and strength. He worked as many hours as was allowed in order to afford the ever-increasing utilities of their tiny home, as well as the constant need for larger clothing for their children. Prices of electricity, oil, gas and propane had skyrocketed since the first outbreak in December, larger companies quickly consuming smaller ones, creating monopolies of energy sources which drove costs for transportation and running the average household up every month. Despite the decrease in population, people were lucky to be paid minimum wage, many accepting jobs where they could find them regardless of the legality of the payroll. Money was essential, and those with an upper hand knew this, the people under them taken advantage of with pay cuts and labor increases. The nation was quickly turning in on itself, though the outward appearance would deem it to be just another economic crisis, a recession that seemed to get worse with each passing day.

They had only been born nine months prior but the twins were already developed to the physical age and skill set of advanced three-year-olds, complete with the proper amount of teeth, hair and a larger than average vocabulary with superior perception. Her life was a constant lie - answering questions about her two children became a burden, keeping the lies straight with both her husband and herself sometimes nearly impossible. As much as she hated it, she forced her twins to lie, too, to ensure the continuity. When possible, she left them hidden in the home, locked in a closet to ensure their safety while she rushed down the street to complete a barter job.

It made her sick to think of how they would spend an hour or so by themselves at such a young age, playing inside of a closet under the few clothing items they still owned that they hadn't sold for quick cash. If the world wasn't in such turmoil as it already was, she was sure to have been reported to the State for child abuse. She couldn't risk their exposure at times, though - they were far too powerful and drew too much attention, especially her son. She could never be sure whose attention they were drawing, either. Replacements infiltrated and took over the community structure regularly, especially in positions of power and law enforcement. Though she was grateful for her son's talent of telepathic communication, she wasn't able to benefit from it directly. Once, when she had first decided to hide them away and pocket the key for a quick job in exchange for six eggs, she came home and found her husband tearing down the wood door the children were locked behind. Their son, having been frightened about being abandoned, spoke to his father in his mind, who instantly left the logging site he was at to aid him, not realizing it was her doing that he and his sister were in there.

Because of his rash decision to leave his job, he was suspended pay for three days, still required to work despite the lack of funds received for his thirty-six plus hours of labor. She and her husband fought, of course, about the carelessness and risk of her actions. There were many fights about many things; many nights of bitterness and anger that ate away at their resolve. The tears shed were incalculable, the heartache unmeasurable. He would always be the first to break down, taking her in his arms for a sense of peace and comfort, willing to own the blame for whatever wrongdoing was done just to regain his sanity through her touch. She would quickly forgive him just for the sake of feeling his presence near her, allowing him to tenderly caress her and even rarely make love to her to help her escape their nightmarish life if only for a moment.

Sex was a risk, though. They were careful to enjoy the scarce pleasure of the act without the potential for conception. Among one of the many things that instantly became more expensive was the cost of contraceptives, both those available in stores and through pricey, monopolized health insurance plans. In this new, disorderly world, birth was apparently encouraged by those in charge - the more slaves to infect, the better, as her husband always said the conspiracy went. The fear of bringing more children into the now chaotic world - especially children with their mutually gifted DNA - was mostly stronger than their lust for each other, though at times sex between them was merely unavoidable.

Her husband stood by his belief that in most areas, there were chemical pheromones being added to drinking water that was still deemed safe. Only under theft, rape had become the leading crime across the nation, people turning into greedy, primal savages with no control over themselves, taking what didn't belong to them regardless of the ethics. She knew it was his long-standing fear every time she left the house without him - he hated her working behind the private walls of strangers' homes for milk, safe handmade bread and eggs. His blood pressure rose every time she mentioned she had a job lined up for one or more items. Just last week, he completely broke down after the twins went to bed, shuddering as he recounted a rape he was too late to intercept during his ten-minute long break for the day. Ten minutes, he had whispered to her, clutching her tightly against him. In less than ten minutes, the woman's life was changed for the worst. That night, he forbade her to leave their home or answer the door for anyone, though she wouldn't wind up complying. She still took jobs in secret, swallowing back her fear - after all, the children needed more than just bits of crab they could scrape from tiny claws.

Today was one such day. Today, twenty-five-year-old Caraline Mulder was to do an assortment of household chores for a family she had worked for before in exchange for two quarts of fresh milk, which her son and daughter, Maddox and Emma, hadn't had for nearly three weeks. For any growing child, it was far too long, let alone two who grew far faster than average because of their father, William Mulder's, altered genetics. She hadn't been afraid of the work she did until Will told her about the rape that occurred on the logging site he was working, Will nearly beating the man responsible to a pulp. Of course, Will was fired from that job after the man reported him, thus forcing him to secure another logging job further away for less pay, which meant more time Cara was on her own to provide for their children. Things needed to be done, she would justify to herself, the lies eating at her as she told them continually to Will. She had to do what she could.

"Max! Emma!" Cara called, her voice bouncing off of the narrow walls in their seemingly miniature home. "Come on, we have to go!" She snatched their two rain jackets that were too short in the sleeves off of the peg near the doorway, their worn rubber boots already waiting for their arrival. It was a typical day in the mid-fifties Fahrenheit, Kodiak Island never seeming to tip past a high of sixty degrees even in summer.

The toddlers, regular partners in crime, bound from their shared bedroom space, their feet hitting the floor with small thuds that had once made Cara so happy. Now, she feared their energy and enthusiasm, unsure how to contain it sometimes as she worked while they were forced to sit and wait as quietly as children their age could. "Quiet, quiet," she chided as they bounced at her feet.

"You always say that," Max said with a frown.

"That's because I always need to," Cara replied, sighing as she tried to make her son's thick brown hair that was exactly like his father's presentable.

"I don't want it brushed!" Max whined.

"Max, you can't go out looking like a ragamuffin."

"What's a rag-gah-muck-en?"

"A raga-_muffin_ is currently you," Cara mumbled, turning her attention to Emma. "And you, little girl, cannot wear that dress again. It's too small."

"No, Mommy!" Emma squealed, wrapping her arms around herself and the weathered Disney Princess dress protectively.

"Come on," Cara said, grabbing the child's hand and leading her to the bedroom. "Max! Get your jacket and boots and follow me!"

Reluctantly, the smart little boy grabbed his coat and boots, stomping with annoyance toward the bedroom while Cara quickly stripped Emma of her seam-torn dress. "Why do we have to dress nice?" Max said, his full, pink lips puckering into a pout.

"Because Mommy needs to earn milk today," Cara explained as she slipped the dress off of Emma, "and you both need to make a good impression."

"What's an im-press-sun?" Emma asked, her voice muffled as her mouth was covered by the shirt Cara was yanking over her head, long, auburn curls escaping through the neck hole with a bounce.

"And impress-_shun_ is what people think of you," Cara explained, beginning to pull up a tiny pair of pants on the child. _Shit, _she thought, feeling the underwear Emma was wearing. "You had an accident, huh?" Emma nodded slowly. "It's okay, baby. Let's get another pair, okay?" Cara reached blindly in the drawer near her, fishing out a tiny pair of girl's panties, swapping them out as quickly as she could.

"What is shit?" Max asked.

"Maddox William!" Cara gasped, turning to her son, who shrugged.

"What?" he asked. "You thought it."

Cara's blue eyes narrowed at her son. "What did I tell you about that, Max?" she reminded. "You stay out of people's minds, okay?"

"Sorry," Max grumbled, flopping on the floor, his body limp with defeat.

Cara scooted over to him as she released Emma. "Emma, go get your jacket and boots now," she ordered, gently pushing the little girl toward the kitchen. "Come on, Max," she said softly, trying to pull up the child who remained motionless, making his body purposely slack. "Please, baby. We need to go, okay?"

"Why don't we go to the park today?" Max asked as Cara tugged his boots on.

"Because Mommy has to work."

"You always have to work."

Cara chewed on her bottom lip. "I know," she admitted. "But if you're good and it stops raining, I'll take you to the park after lunch, okay?"

"Really?" The boy's dark brown eyes shone at the possibility.

"Really," Cara said, smiling. She stroked the boy's cheek, her heart filling as she saw how much he looked like his father and his grandfather.

"Can we see Grandpa today too?"

Cara's mouth opened. "What are you talking about?" she whispered.

"Grandpa," Max repeated. "I had a dream about him last night. And you just thought about him-oops."

"Max …"

"Sorry, Mommy! I didn't mean to look again."

"It's okay, baby," Cara reassured with a sigh. "Why don't you tell me about your dream as we walk to the Pierson's house, okay?"

Max smiled. "Okay!"

Guiding the little boy into the kitchen, Cara quickly suited up Emma for their trip in the rain, glancing at the old clock posted to the yellow kitchen wall. "Damn!" she cursed under her breath, seeing that she had less than ten minutes to make it on time. "Come on!" she urged, opening the door as the kids both bounded out into the rain while she locked the door behind her. As she turned around and headed down the steps, her yoga pants instantly became soaked from the twins taking turns splashing in the large puddle at the bottom of the porch. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to lose her cool. "Hands," she ordered, jutting out both of her hands to her sides as the children snatched one each.

With purpose, they rushed down the cracked and uneven sidewalk toward the Pierson's house, which was normally about a fifteen minute walk away without the kids. The rain had picked up, pelting on them with increasing anger. She was grateful for the rain jackets the kids still barely fit into, though she wasn't as fortunate to keep dry in her hooded sweatshirt over the tank top she wore. She was tempted to pick them both up and run the rest of the way, though she knew it wasn't practical. She wasn't Will, after all.

"So tell me about your dream," Cara said softly to Max, half-listening to Emma's delicate voice singing a song she was making up about rain as she walked.

"Grandpa is nice," Max said, gripping Cara's fingers tightly. "He has a funny name."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. His name is Fox. Isn't that funny, Mommy? He doesn't like being called that, though."

Cara swallowed down her fear. She and Will had been adamant about keeping information regarding Will's parents from the children out of fear - fear that the children would somehow tell the wrong person who they were, revealing their sensitive identities to the strangers they encountered who could be replacements. Could he have remembered from infancy?

"We don't have grandparents, Max," Emma corrected.

"Yes we do," Max insisted.

"No we don't."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Alright!" Cara interrupted, sighing. This was a first for her to deal with, and she desperately desired Will's help in that moment. "Max," she said gently, "Emma's right in a way. Your grandparents are gone." She hoped her white lie would satisfy him, forgetting about his invasive ability.

"You're lying."

_Shit._

"What _does_ shit mean anyway?"

"Max!" Cara snapped. "That's it, no more. No more talk about grandparents and no more reading minds, okay?" The boy was silent. "Okay?" Cara repeated.

"Okay," Max mumbled.

* * *

Motor Inn  
Roswell, New Mexico  
6:39 AM MST

The ridges that the black square computer keys left in his skin were painfully visible as Fox Mulder slowly lifted his head and body from its slumped posture over the small motel desk he had fallen asleep at. He narrowed his hazel eyes at the screen in still-waking confusion, seeing the series of odd characters and numbers his forehead had left on the search engine he had been using. He snickered to himself, the pattern vaguely reminding him of an old X-File he and Dana Scully had once investigated.

Speaking of the devil …

He shifted his focus to the body that lay in the bed nearby, recently cut and wavy auburn hair sneaking out from white sheets, a small porcelain hand bearing a gold wedding band draped over her pillow. The line of her toned arms and shoulders as well as the upper curve of her left breast were visible from his angle, and he smirked knowingly, his eyes shifting slowly south as he recounted the details hidden under the cheap cotton.

His smile faded as he rubbed the soreness from his skin, massaging his eyes to remove the residue as he sighed deeply. Every day for the last six months, it was the same. A night spent prior, no matter how pleasurable, vanished with haste come morning, the damning rubble of life crashing down on them without mercy. They were buying time to exist in the daylight, fueling up on hopes and dreams from dusk until dawn. It was an existence that challenged every ounce of faith and resourcefulness in mankind.

It had been three months since they fled the settlement in Shiprock Territory at the threat of Censure invasion under the guise of FEMA site purification. The Censure was the key organization within FEMA who enforced the will of the Colonists, a middleman group composed of replacement government and military officials headed by none other than the Smoking Man himself. Being naive, the public believed FEMA's national efforts to rid the country of contaminants to be valid, never seeming to question the integrity of the severe methods they used to ensure what they called "public safety." The other residents of the Shiprock settlement refused to leave with them and days later, Mulder and Scully read about several wildfires reported by the media in the same location they once lived in peace with the Hosteen clan. They prayed fervently that those they had come to call family were sensible enough to have left before the flames consumed them. Mulder often wondered if John and his kin had chosen to stay, opting to die in scorching fires rather than at the mercy of heartless aliens.

Now, the only safety was found in hiding from the Censure as best as possible. Mulder and Scully bounced from town to town, motel to motel, a different bed every night it seemed. Most places became abandoned because of the owners taking ill with the virus from infected food, which aided them as far as expenses were concerned. They occupied rooms in secret, keeping lower than low profiles as they ate the bits of seafood they could find that was sourced directly from the ocean and not private farms.

People everywhere had made monetary gain from the overwhelming state of confusion the country faced, selling gas for cars at prices reaching sometimes near ten dollars per gallon, depending on the location of the station. These people were suspicious enough of what was happening to avoid becoming infected, information from Mulder regarding safety exchanged for tanks of fuel and items of food. It didn't always work, though - money still talked for the most part, which made it increasingly difficult to move outside of a centralized area. That is, unless you were willing to travel on foot in the desert in the summer or steal cars with more gas than your own, neither of which seemed like logical things to do at the present time without proper cause.

Internet access was precarious. Often, Mulder was able to attach himself to a discrete network illegally for brief moments to access email, thankful for the few skills he had managed to retain from the long-passed Gunmen. When connected, he would only concern himself with two things, the first being researching the whereabouts of a rumored rebel group called The Insurgence. Information about the underground organization had gotten to Mulder through an old conspiracy contact via email about a month ago, though Mulder hadn't heard from him in the last several days. The last contact Mulder received mentioned the group being housed in Texas, the silence after making him believe that somehow he was found out, his life ended for his rebellion.

The second reason he ever tried to access his email was his undying hope to receive a letter from William, which never came. More times than he cared to witness, Mulder heard Scully cry herself to sleep, knowing she often dreamt about their son, his name a whisper on her lips from the nightmares that plagued them both. When resources became compromised, their mission of finding Will and his young family became increasingly difficult, especially when Will had cleaned his tracks so well the moment they left in December.

After a long discussion the night before, Mulder finally convinced Scully to head southeast with him to Corpus Christi, Texas, where he had concluded after weeks of piecing scraps of information together that the Insurgence resided. The name Corpus Christi translated to Body of Christ, which in and of itself seemed hopeful, not to mention the idealistic location by the untainted waters, thanks to their granddaughter. His hope was that once they were able to incorporate themselves into the society that his access to better research equipment would become available, thus making it possible to find Will, Cara and the children. The only problems were knowing whether they were right about the location, and if by chance so, whether they would be accepted.

"Mmm … Mulder?" Her voice was soft, still hazy from the sleep he had induced in late the night before.

"'Morning, Dana," Mulder said softly, coming to sit next to her as she slowly shifted to face him.

"What time is it?"

"Just before seven."

"Oh."

"You should go back to sleep. We had a late night."

Dana Scully shook her head, moving a mass of hair that hung in her eyes. "No, I'm okay," she assured, blinking heavily as she looked at him.

"You sure?" Mulder teased, helping her groom the crazed strands behind her ears. "I came over a couple times this morning already to check your pulse to make sure I didn't kill you."

Scully smirked. "Yeah right, Macho Man."

"Hey, you slept well, didn't you?" His eyes sparkled as he took in the curve of her cheekbones. "I'm just glad this place is mostly abandoned, except for the old deaf man a few doors down. Otherwise, the Censure might have been called to take care of a public hazard from all the noise you made."

Her small hand swatted him firmly on his bare chest, her clear blue eyes narrowing playfully. "As I recall," she challenged, "you made quite a lot of girlish sounds yourself."

"Not girlish, Scully," Mulder corrected. "Impassioned."

"Uh-huh."

"Well," Mulder said, his lips pressing together, "you've got two options this morning. You can either get your sexy ass in the shower right now, or we can test your theory about whether my noises are girlish or impassioned and compare them to the volume and pitch of the sounds you make."

"Why can't we do all three?"

"Ooh, Dana Scully, you little minx."

"Move," Scully said with a laugh. "We need to get on the road." Mulder stood, watching with a soft grin as Scully casually stepped from the bed, her body bare. "What?" she asked, eying him as she pulled on the large tee shirt she stole from him to sleep in.

"Just admiring the view."

"The view will be kinder to you if you left it hot water in the shower."

"I didn't shower yet. I was hoping to go for the trifecta you proposed."

"Too bad," Scully murmured, grabbing a few essentials from her travel bag as she walked toward the small bathroom. "Guess it's your loss."

"Tease."

The bathroom door shut, Mulder sighing as he closed the laptop computer, tucking it back into his travel bag. Their banter was often all they had anymore to keep them hinged besides the passion they shared. In a world that became increasingly dark and sinister, love and light-weighted humor went very far to soothe their broken souls.

He heard the shower water turn on and considered sneaking in, taking advantage of the moment. Carpe diem, you only live once and all that bullshit. Instead, the weight of an empty inbox chained him to the edge of the unmade bed in the curtain-drawn room, the early morning sun fighting for exposure through the edges of unappealing drapes. No matter what he had with Scully, he knew there remained a vast emptiness in both of them, the shape of the void fitting exactly four people.


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Kodiak Island, AK  
9:09 AM AKST

Cara eagerly knocked on the Pierson's large front door, tucking her children to her hips as she waited for an answer. She smiled apologetically at the middle-aged woman who answered, hoping it could combat the scowling frown she saw on the woman's face. "Missus Pierson," Cara said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"You're late," Mrs. Pierson said cooly, eying the two children.

"Yes, ma'am," Cara admitted softly. "I'm very sorry to keep you waiting, I-"

"And I see you've brought company?"

"They won't be any trouble, ma'am," Cara assured. "They're very good children."

"Isn't the father around?" the woman snipped as her eyes fell on Max, who gazed up at her intently.

"He's a logger … he's transporting timber to Chiniak today."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Ma'am, I would really appreciate the opportunity to work," Cara said gently, hoping she could convince the woman to let her in. "I can do extra, if you need me to."

"Extra," the woman repeated, still eying Max. "Yes." Mrs. Pierson looked up at Cara. "Extra would be sufficient, I suppose."

Cara nodded. "Thank you," she breathed with relief.

"Be sure the brats don't get mud on my carpet."

_White carpet. Shit._ She forgot the Pierson's had white carpet near the entryway. "Wipe your boots good out here and take them off as soon as you get in," Cara whispered to the twins, praying they would comply.

Thankfully, the twins seemed to sense her desperation, lining their scraped boots up next to the door, far away from the crisp white loomed fibers. Cara drew them close after ridding them of their jackets and her own sweatshirt, Mrs. Pierson facing them as she gathered her designer purse. The Piersons had enough money to still own a nice home, being that Mr. Pierson owned one of the major cargo ship transportation companies in all of Kodiak. They had a plot of land behind the large Victorian-style home, housing a small farm that was worked by other community members, the Piersons reaping the benefits of the organic produce and other products they sold at inflated prices at the expense of the poorer. "I'm headed to Ardinger's and then the plaza," she stated, eying Cara carefully. "The task list is on the table. I expect it completed and you three gone well before I'm back, including the extra projects I've added for your tardiness." Her icy eyes found Emma's round green ones. "A ginger," she remarked under her breath, examining Emma's fair complexion and sunny red hair. "What a shame. At least the boy is decent looking, albeit a bit scrawny."

Cara grit her teeth, feeling her blood boil at the insults to her children, especially her daughter. She gripped Emma's hand a bit tighter, trying to hold her words back that would have flowed so quickly from her mouth if the same situation had occurred six months before when she could have gone to the store and bought milk. She shut her eyes as Mrs. Pierson passed by her, who slipped on her silky black rain jacket with pearlized buttons. "Oh, and Henry will be home in a while to make sure you complete your work without any consequences of the children being here," she added, fishing out her keys to her luxury sedan. "See to it you make him lunch before you leave."

"Yes, ma'am," Cara muttered, feeling relieved when the door shut. She released Emma's and Max's hands, inhaling deeply as she squatted down to their level.

"That lady is mean," Max whispered softly.

"Max …" Cara began, shaking her head.

"Well, she is, Mommy."

"Mommy, what's a ginger?" Emma asked quietly.

"Don't worry about it, Emma," Cara said softly, running her hand through her daughter's long red curls.

"It doesn't mean something nice," Max informed.

"Max!"

"Well, it doesn't! You wouldn't be so mad if it did!" Cara's eyes narrowed at Max. "Oops," he gulped.

"Alright you two," Cara said, taking them into the large kitchen, swiping the extra long project list from the granite countertop. "You know where the buckets are, right?"

The twins dashed off toward the pantry, reaching on their tippy toes to open the door and retrieve the two buckets Cara needed while she dug out the cleaning products from under the sink. "Great. Thanks, guys," Cara said with a smile. "Now, why don't you two go watch some TV, okay?"

"Really?" Emma asked, her eyes wide. They didn't have cable television at home; they couldn't afford it. Instead, they had an old tube set with a VCR player and a small collection of movies that one of their neighbors was throwing out prior to the beginning of the end.

"Really," Cara replied, kissing their foreheads. "But what are the rules?" she asked, stopping the two excited children in their tracks.

"Only channel eight, no fighting and sit still," they said in unison.

Cara smiled. "Good. Off you go." She laughed softly as she watched the children bound toward the television the Piersons had let them use before in the small back guest room. With a deep exhale, she looked at the list in her hand and immediately began working as quickly as she could. There was an eerie feel to the home without Mrs. Pierson's overbearing nature following her like a shadow. Something was different that morning, but Cara couldn't put her finger on it. She just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

Forty-five minutes later, after nearly two thirds of the list was done, Cara paused in the master bedroom as she heard the front door open and slam shut. "You in here, missy?" Henry Pierson asked loudly; Cara could hear his keys being tossed into the entryway bowl.

"Yes, sir," Cara replied. "I'm just finishing with the sheets."

"Mmm-hmm."

The atmosphere became quiet after, only the sounds of children's television softly filtering through from across the hall in the guest bedroom. She had peaked in on Max and Emma before, impressed with their commitment to adhere to the rules, not to mention touched by how they snuggled together on the floor at the foot of the bed as they quietly watched Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

Resuming tucking the fresh sheets with expert precision, Cara's heart jumped when she saw his presence fill the doorway from the corner of her eye. "I'll be done in a minute, Mister Pierson," she said softly. "Is everything to your satisfaction?" she asked, her voice soft and genuine, hoping to pass inspection with no unexpected hurdles.

"Not everything," Mr. Pierson said in a low tone, catching Cara's attention. She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear that had escaped her high ponytail, watching as he shut the bedroom door.

"I'm sorry, sir," she apologized with practiced conviction, though she began to panic internally at the closed space she was now in. "What is it that I can fix?"

"Well …" Mr. Pierson strode toward her, his eyes carefully searching hers before glancing down at her rising and falling chest. After the birth of her children, Cara's bustline had expanded, something she was still getting used to as far as wardrobe function. As discreetly as possible, she adjusted her tank top, relieved that she was showing hardly any skin, unlike Mr. Pierson's eyes had suggested. "There's a couple things I need done that my wife didn't include on the list today."

"Oh," Cara said, her voice feeling incredibly small as he continued to near her with a sinister smile. "W-well, you can just write them down and-"

Mr. Pierson grabbed her arm, gripping it tightly and dragging her close to himself. She froze in surprise, her eyes widening as he flipped open a blade to a knife with his free hand. "How about I just tell you what I want, huh?" the older man said in a husky voice, the stench of liquor fresh on his breath.

"Let go of me," Cara warned, breathing heavily as she tried to pull out of the man's grip.

"I'm in charge here, slut," Mr. Pierson said, yanking back Cara's head by her ponytail and resting the blade against her neck. "So I suggest you start listening before I hurt those little brats in the other room."

Her lip quivered; she felt his hand release her hair and skim over her waist. "Mmm," he murmured, smiling. "It's been a long time since I had something so young."

"I'm warning you," Cara said firmly though her heart was racing, "let go of me."

"I guess you don't care about the kids then?" Mr. Pierson asked, grabbing her hip and slamming her pelvis against him. She winced, feeling the knife digging against her throat. "Now," he said in her ear, "if you don't want to see anybody get hurt, I suggest you be a good girl and get down on your knees."

Her lips parted as she panted in fear, feeling the man pushing her down though she resisted. "Good," he sneered, looking down at her as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. She thought she would be sick right then. "Now, I'm sure you know what to do from here, right?"

Before she had time to think, the door flew open, Max filling the space with anger in his eyes as he glared at Mr. Pierson. "Stay away from Mommy!" he yelled. Mr. Pierson eyed him with anger, gripping the knife tighter. Before he could react though, the knife flew from his hand and landed with force into the opposite wall, and Mr. Pierson fell with a thud onto the ground. Cara stood quickly, shocked as she saw Max's hands held out in front of him, his small face tight with anger.

In a panic, Cara tried to move away toward the open door where Max was, feeling her ankles being grabbed by Mr. Pierson, who drug her down onto the carpet, pushing her onto her back. "Max!" Cara screamed. "Take Emma and run!" She tried to fight the large man above her who ripped her shirt, managing to separate herself slightly using her knees to push him upward and scramble a distance away. Mr. Pierson growled angrily and grabbed her by the hair, slamming her head onto the floor. Cara cried out in pain as he pinned her down, horrified as she saw him trying to yank his pants off with one hand.

When his trousers fell, Mr. Pierson ripped the waistband of her pants in an attempt to rid her of her clothes. He toppled over from another strong, forceful blow at the hands of Max, who charged closer, focusing his energy on keeping the man down. Cara quickly flew to her feet, still shocked at Max's power as she watched the boy lift the man up with his mind and throw him into the wall. "I said stay away from Mommy!" Max yelled as Mr. Pierson slumped to the floor.

Snatching his hand, Cara drug Max out of the room and quickly grabbed Emma, leaving the television on in the guest room as she fled for the door, grabbing the kids' coats and shoving on their boots. She could hear his angry voice shouting obscenities in the distance, her pulse speeding as she lifted both children to her sides. She burst out of the house, her arms full of children and outerwear as she ran toward home through the cold rain. Emma began crying in terror, the suddenness of everything shocking the little girl to near hysterics as Max remained silent. Cara quivered, her feet hitting the pavement with purpose; wasn't sure if the water dripping in her eyes was raindrops or tears.

Though they were both slung in her arms as she ran, Cara made it fairly quickly to their small home. She dug out her keys from her hooded sweatshirt's pocket, jamming them into the lock and throwing open the door. Without meaning to, she forcefully shoved the kids inside and slammed the door shut, locking the deadbolt and the door tightly before pressing herself up against it, her eyes shut as she shuddered, catching her breath.

"Mommy?" Emma's small voice shook in fear as she looked up at Cara, her eyes wet from crying and her nose runny. "What's wrong, Mommy?"

Cara's eyes opened, shoving down her terror for the sake of the children in front of her. "Oh baby, it's okay," she murmured, sinking down and wrapping her arms around them both, smoothing their wet hair with her hands. "Mommy … just wanted to come home."

"We were being good, though," Emma said innocently, sniffing. Cara realized she was crying, the little girl thinking she had done something wrong.

"Sweetie," Cara said softly, kissing Emma's forehead, "you were a wonderful little girl today. You didn't do anything wrong." She looked over at Max, seeing the child's lips pressed into a thin line as he eyed his mother. She turned back to Emma, looking into the girl's eyes. "Why don't you go play in your room for a minute, okay?" she encouraged, stroking her daughter's cheek.

With a sigh, she watched Emma slowly walk to the twins' room, still sniffing back her tears. Slowly, Cara's eyes fell on Max, who still analyzed her with intensity. "Max," she breathed. "What … what happened back there …"

"He had bad thoughts, Mommy," Max said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. His lips pressed out a little. "I know you said don't go into minds, but Mommy, he wanted to hurt you!"

Cara nodded. "You're right, Max," she whispered, running her fingers through the boy's hair. "He did have bad thoughts." She swallowed, trying to erase the mental images of the experience. "But Max, we need to talk about what you did."

"He deserved it!"

"Max," Cara warned gently, silencing the angry boy. "You … you can't … do things like that. Not around other people. Only Mommy and Daddy and Emma."

"But why?" Max asked, confused.

"Because …" Cara exhaled; this was harder than she anticipated. "Because it's not something normal people can do." _Well, that was a lousy choice of words, Cara._

"I'm not normal?"

"Of course you are-"

"I'm a freak?" Max's head dropped.

"Now wait a minute," Cara interrupted, tilting Max's chin up so he would look into her eyes, "where did you hear that word?"

"Tommy Fisher."

"Well, Tommy Fisher shouldn't say things like that. That's not a nice word."

"Like ginger?"

Cara shut her eyes; she couldn't help but smile gently at the bluntness of her son that reminded her so much of Will. "Yes, baby. Those are both mean words." She stroked his face. "You're not a freak, Max. You're a very special boy. But not everyone understands how special what you can do is. That's why you need to keep it a secret, okay?"

"Okay," Max murmured. He paused. "Even if you or Emmie or Daddy is in trouble?"

Cara drew her bottom lip inward and chewed down on it, slowly nodding. "Yeah, sweetie. Even if we're in trouble."

"I don't want you or Daddy or Emmie to get hurt though."

Cara closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around Max. "I know, baby. But you have to keep it a secret. And you have to keep what happened a secret from Daddy. Promise?" She pulled away enough to show him her right hand, only her pinky finger jutting out toward him knowingly. With a small sigh, Max's pinky finger latched onto hers.

"Promise," he replied with a sinking heart.

* * *

En route to Corpus Christi, TX  
2:25 PM CST

The road was incredibly long and the scenery dull, the air conditioning seemed to work just well enough to keep Mulder and Scully both mostly sane as the unforgiving sun hung over their heads, blazing its heat onto every possible surface.

A sunflower seed shell flicked from Mulder's fingers to the growing collection in the unused ashtray of the older vehicle as he thoughtfully consumed the tiny flesh from inside of it while clutching the wheel with one hand. Dipping his fingers into the bag of seeds he managed to stretch since purchasing in October before the crops were contaminated, he slipped another between his teeth. "I wonder what they look like by now," he mused quietly with his eyes on the road, too scared to look for Scully's reaction next to him. He regretted bringing up the topic, but it was now far too late to take it back.

"I'm sure they're beautiful," she replied softly, her head still turned toward the passenger window where it had been for quite some time.

"They'd be …"

"Nine months old."

"Nine months," Mulder repeated. "So … crawling and stuff."

Scully nodded. "Cutting teeth. Maybe even pulling up to stand."

"Wow." He sighed. "And we've missed it all."

"Yeah."

The silence filled the atmosphere once again, claiming their courage and their words. Neither knew what to say in response to the solemn musings brought up before, each fighting tears at the reality of the situation.

"Shit," Mulder murmured sometime later, looking at the gas tank.

"How many more miles?" Scully asked, knowing immediately what his concern was.

"Not many. Maybe fifteen, twenty."

"Next station is in ten, according to a sign a minute ago."

"Guess we'll have to try our luck there," Mulder grumbled.

Nine and a half miles later, Mulder rolled into the small roadside gas station complete with a rusted and weathered sign that read "Frank's Fuel" in dated italicized font type. Putting the sedan in park, Mulder exited the car, squinting through his sunglasses as he tried to see if anyone was still even in the station to run the pumps. Scully followed suit, sighing as she examined the dusty landscape around them. "Guess Frank didn't get the memo about the end of the world," Mulder remarked, removing his shades. Lately, his humor had grown increasingly dry and bitter; Scully assumed his defenses were on the brink of utter meltdown, cracking jokes, however inappropriate, his only survival mechanism. "Ah hah!" Mulder said, pointing at the pump with a grin. "We've got a live one, Scully." With a shrug, Mulder took the handle of a hose off of its rest, loading it into the gas cap he unscrewed from their car.

To both of their surprise, a middle-aged man opened the door to the small building across from them, a large shotgun in his hands as he eyed them. "Y'all familiar with the second amendment, right?" the man asked, spitting over to his right side.

"See, Scully?" Mulder whispered. "It's not my fault as a born and bred Yankee that Texans are stereotyped."

"Hi," Scully said to the man, smiling politely as she ignored Mulder's observation. "We were hoping to get some gas."

"Uh huh," the man said, squinting at Mulder. "It's twenty a gallon."

"Twenty?" Mulder asked, nearly choking.

"I suggest you stop the pump if you've got an issue with it."

"Could we interest you in a partial barter?" Scully asked.

The man eyed Scully, another wad of spit escaping his mouth as he came closer to them, stopping on the other side of the pump across from Mulder. "What are you offerin'?"

"What is it you're looking for?"

The man smiled at Scully. "Well, originally I wasn't lookin' for a redhead … but I suppose I could enjoy one anyway."

Mulder ripped the handle to the pump from the car and jammed the gas cap into place, furious as he charged toward the man. "Take your forty dollars," he said darkly, shoving the cash into the man's chest unconcerned by his gun, knocking him backward a few steps. He turned, guiding Scully back to the car with a hand on her lower back.

"Y'all have a nice day, now," the man laughed, spitting in Mulder's direction, which made Mulder freeze and glare back at the man.

"Come on, Mulder," Scully whispered as she looked across at Mulder's face that showed his building rage. With a moment's hesitation, Mulder sunk into the driver's seat, starting the car with a heavy hand and accelerating away with an equally as heavy foot on the gas pedal.

"So much for southern hospitality," Mulder growled, slamming his palm on the wheel as he saw how the fuel indicator barely rose for the obscene amount of money they spent.

* * *

3:19 PM CST

Scully sighed. "So, where are we?" she asked.

"Wall, I think. Should be right off of I-eighty-seven."

Scully's eyebrow arched as she peered down at the wrinkled map on her thighs. "Well, if that's the case, we've still got another … looks like four to five hours to Corpus Christi. About three-hundred and fifty miles."

"Brilliant," Mulder replied, another sunflower seed falling victim between his teeth.

"How much cash is left from the withdraw?"

"Forty."

"That's it?" Scully was shocked.

"I mean, I know this has been a pretty cheap vacation and all, but there aren't economical store brands to choose from anymore."

"Mulder … we have less than a quarter tank."

Another seed cracked loudly. "I'm aware."

She cleared her throat. "We need fuel soon."

Mulder inhaled deeply, fishing the wasted shell from his mouth and disposing of it. "You know," he said softly, crunching on the seed he liberated, "I used to think everyone was exaggerating when they said that retirement was expensive. Well, where's the damn AARP when you need them now?"

Scully remarked, "Medicare was probably the first to be eliminated by the Censure."

"Yeah, well I didn't wait almost fifty two years to reap the benefits of senior life only to have bastard aliens take my chance for discounts away."

"Well, lost privileges or not, Clyde, we still need gas."

"You're right, Bonnie," Mulder replied, a smile forming on his lips as he spotted another fuel stop in the distance. "Ta-dah!"

"The power of suggestion," Scully smirked.

"Let's just hope Frank's brother Billy-Bob isn't running this one. Otherwise I might become a murderer and a thief today."

The car slowed to a halt, Mulder shifting it into park near the deserted station, feeling less hopeful than he had an hour ago. "I doubt anything's on at this one," he remarked as they examined the unlit pump.

"Mulder," Scully whispered, gesturing to a vehicle nearby that had a hose sticking out of the side.

"Yatzee," Mulder replied under his breath, lifting the hose from the pump, only to find it still not working. "Alright, so apparently there's only an option for Door Number One. How do we want to play this, Monte?"

"I don't know, it's your show."

"What, you think I'm well versed in theft?"

Scully sighed. "Maybe we should just pay for the gas."

"And be in the same situation in another hour?"

"Mulder …"

"Scully, do you think those people are paying for gas?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I doubt they are."

"Then I guess we just wait until they're done."

"Excuse me," Mulder said loudly, stepping toward the vehicle across from them. "How much is the …" His voice died as his eyes fell on the scene; he felt his stomach turn a little. "Um, Scully?" he called to her, wincing as he looked.

"What is it, Mulder?" Scully asked, now crossing toward him.

"I think whoever this was figured things out a little too late."

Scully's eyes widened as she saw the gory scene, a Caucasian male laying in the driver's seat slouched over, his chest and stomach completely torn open from a newly-born long-clawed alien. "I thought they were just growing replacements," she whispered.

"Apparently they want to have a variety of monsters," Mulder replied softly.

A few buckets of recycling a decent distance behind him rattled as the contents fell to the ground, cracking glass earning snapping necks in attention as the two tried to see the source of the noise. They were alone, or so it seemed - nothing behind them or to the sides. Scully gulped, fishing out her gun in sync with Mulder. Their hearts raced in the shared silence, Mulder stepping cautiously toward the broken bottles and spilled cans with his gun drawn.

"Mulder!" Scully whispered hoarsely, lifting to aim her gun. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to earn my bravery badge," he whispered back.

"Mulder, get in the car!" She breathed heavily as she watched him continue to move forward. "Mulder!" she yelled in a hushed voice.

Much to his surprise, a stray black and white cat with shiny fur leapt from the mess of garbage Mulder was investigating, making him jump, then shut his eyes in relief. "Shit," he breathed, lowering his gun. "It was just a cat, Scully," he said with a smile, shaking his head as he saw the area now empty. Silence lingered between them. "Scully?"

When she didn't respond, Mulder turned back to where she was last standing, seeing her face down on the ground with a gun pointed to the back of her neck by a looming figure.


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Mulder quickly lifted his gun, cocking it as he aimed at the man who had one traced on Scully. "Drop your weapon!" he barked, stepping closer. His eyebrow raised in shock when he saw the man help Scully to her feet, then look up at him. "Doggett?" he asked, stunned.

"Mulder," John Doggett said softly, feeling embarrassed for his actions. "I'm sorry, I had to check."

"Check what?" Scully snapped with anger, eying Doggett as she dusted herself off.

"Everyone's getting infected," Doggett explained. "Monica and I nearly were clobbered by our neighbors back in Virginia. We let our guard down and they nearly killed us. You can't be too sure."

"Yeah, well how do we know you're you?" Mulder yelled, raising his gun again.

Doggett dropped his gun, turning around. "Go ahead, take a look." Doggett remained still as he felt Mulder grab the back of his shirt, yanking it down to reveal the base of his neck. He was clean. "I guess I'm the only one left," Mulder mumbled, turning for Doggett to check, which he did with a small nod.

"Dana," Doggett said softly, "I'm sorry, I saw the way you were aiming at Mulder and-"

"I was aiming at a cat," Scully corrected.

"A cat?" Doggett asked, confused.

"What we thought was a newborn alien," Mulder explained.

"Oh."

"What are you doing in Texas?"

"Monica and I tried getting ahold of you guys, but we couldn't seem to get to you."

"Yeah, that's what happens when your cell phones burn in your house after it's set on fire."

"Damn, I'm sorry."

"It's alright. We managed to permanently borrow a laptop from a vacant motel in Roswell."

"We had computer access, but not for long. What about John and his family?"

Mulder shrugged. "We don't know what happened to them. They wouldn't leave with us."

Doggett nodded solemnly. "Well, have you two heard about The Insurgence yet?" he asked. "It's why we came to Texas."

Scully nodded. "We're trying to get to Corpus Christi now," she said, "only, we are running out of money and gas."

"Want a ride?" a voice behind them asked. All three turned to see Monica Reyes approaching them in the distance with a smile. She paused after seeing Mulder and Scully's hesitance, turning around as she lifted her dark brown hair to reveal her lump-free bare neck exposed by the powder blue tank top she wore with her utility cargo pants.

"We're figuring it's there, too, according to our research," Doggett explained as Reyes turned back around to face them. "We were able to siphon some fuel from the car in the garage and add it to our tank. We can try to siphon this guy's and yours too, if you want to join us."

Mulder tucked his gun back into his waistband, looking over at Scully. She nodded; he matched her small smile of relief for the fortune they had found. "Thought you'd never ask," Mulder replied.

* * *

Kodiak Island, AK  
4:59 PM AKST

"Well, I've got bad news and worse news. Which one do you want first?"

Twenty-six-year-old William Mulder clicked the deadbolt shut behind him after closing the front door, shedding his wet coat and hanging it on the peg nearby. He craned his neck side to side to stretch the sore, overworked muscles, his back still to the kitchen where he heard Cara rustling around.

Will turned, Cara's silence throwing him off guard. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, her eyes focused on the knife she held as she cut up the small chunks of fish left over from his catch the day before. "Cara?" he asked gently, dropping his keys on the table with a noticeable thump. She still didn't respond. In worry, he touched her forearm, hoping to get her attention.

Only instead, she gasped and screamed, yanking her arm away from Will. Cara held the knife defensively out in front of her as the fish fell onto the floor from the toppled-over cutting board. "Whoa!" Will said, holding his hands up, his mouth open in surprise as he dodged her attack. "Easy!"

"Will …" Cara breathed, shutting her eyes as she attempted to relax her pulse. She was quiet, moreso than made Will feel comfortable or assured of her present state of mind. She felt Will take the knife from her shaking hand, resting it behind her on the counter.

"You okay?" Will asked, feeling his chest tighten in worry as he examined her.

Cara nodded, opening her eyes. "Yeah," she said softly. "Sorry, I … was thinking." Her eyes fell on the fish that littered the kitchen floor. "Shit!" She quickly bent down, trying to salvage the bits of meat she had worked hard to pick from the bones for their meal that night. "Damnit!" she cursed, realizing it was all dirty and ruined.

"Hey," Will said, coming down to her level, "it's okay. We'll make something else."

"We can't just make something else, Will!" Cara shouted angrily, tears forming in her eyes.

"I'm sure we-"

"We can't afford to waste!"

"It was an accident, Cara." He slowly stood with her, watching her analyze the pieces of meat as she dropped them on the cutting board on the counter, washing her hands as she cursed.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit-"

"Hey!" Will grabbed her soapy wrists, stopping her as she became angry. "Hey," he repeated gently, holding her still as he dried her hands with the nearby dish towel. "It's okay." His voice was a whisper as he set the towel down behind them, still gripping her wrists with secure tenderness. When he saw she refused to look at him, Will lifted Cara's face up gingerly with a finger under her chin. "What happened?" he asked, feeling his heart race as he examined her watery eyes.

"Nothing," Cara replied quickly.

Will shook his head. "What happened?"

"I wasted the fish-"

"No," Will stopped her, his eyes fixed on her, "tell me."

As he watched her lips part to begin to speak, the twins stampeded into the kitchen, squealing in delight at Will's presence, their joy uncontainable. "Daddy!" Emma cheered, throwing her arms around his leg and hugging him. Will released Cara reluctantly, distracted by his children who persistently begged for his attention and affection.

"Hi, princess," Will greeted her tenderly, lifting Emma into his arms and kissing her forehead.

"Daddy!" Max jumped up and down in front of him. "Guess what? I did a really cool trick today!" he rambled excitedly.

"Oh yeah?" Will said, grinning as he scooped Max up in his other strong arm, kissing the boy on the forehead as well. "What was it?"

"No," Cara interrupted firmly, Will turning to face her with confusion. "No, Max." She eyed the boy, thinking what she wished to convey to him aloud, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist diving into her mind. She knew Max's pride was in his ability; Will was even jealous that his son could read all minds with no effort or pain, including Colonists and Shields.

"But Mom-" Max began.

"I said no."

"Daddy!" Emma said sweetly. "Daddy, I made up a song about rain today!"

"Well, now you have to sing it to me," Will remarked with a smile, setting the twins down as he glanced back at Cara, who turned away toward the counter. "But first," he added, looking down at the kids, "I need to talk to Mommy in private, okay?"

"Okay!" Emma replied, putting her fingers in her ears as she stood by his feet.

"Emma, that's not what private means," Will reminded gently.

"What?" Emma shouted, her hearing partially blocked.

"That's NOT what it means, doofus!" Max shouted at his sister, his brow furrowed.

"Max," Will corrected firmly, lowering himself down to Max's level as he unplugged Emma's fingers from her ears. "Apologize to your sister right now."

"Why?" Max yelled, clearly angry. "I always have to keep secrets! She never has to keep secrets!"

"Maddox." Will's voice was deep and stern. "Right. Now."

"Sorry," Max grumbled.

"Now," Will's jaw flexed as he continued to look at the boy, "I want you to go to your room and sit on your bed until I get there, okay? We're going to have a talk about your behavior." Will turned to Emma. "Emma, go play in the living room, okay?"

"Okay," Emma murmured, slipping away. Max's pout became a full on frown, his steps purposely languid and harsh as he walked to the shared room.

Will sighed, standing slowly as he tried to regain his focus. Though the kids were so small, they were sometimes so far beyond the development of even their extraordinary growth. It was like they grew a year every day at times. He turned back toward the counter to face Cara, who had begun cleaning the meat that had fallen with obsessive tendency. He watched her from behind for a moment, worried by the message her body language was sending as well as the look he saw her share with Max moments earlier. "Cara?" he asked gently before touching her shoulder; he felt her freeze under his feather-light grip, her hands releasing the fish onto the cutting board so she could wash them. After she was done, he slowly turned her to face him, once again looking deep into her eyes. "What happened?" he questioned; she could hear the fear in his tone.

Her head dipped down toward her left shoulder, as if the most interesting thing on the planet was happening right in that spot in that exact moment. "Nothing hap-"

"Rethink that answer, Cara," Will warned, feeling his temper begin to flare out of concern. She was silent, refusing to look into his eyes. He panicked. "Cara," he whispered hoarsely, "_tell me_."

"I took a job today," Cara finally whispered, still looking down and away. She heard the way Will shifted his weight as he listened; she could practically hear his anger despite the silence. "At the Pierson's."

Will shut his eyes. "I told you, no jobs," he scolded quietly, trying to keep their conversation down so Emma wouldn't hear.

"The kids needed milk, Will!" Cara objected, looking up at him. "They haven't had a single glass of milk in nearly three weeks! Emma has been so tired from the lack of vitamin D and Max needs it just as much too."

"Then I'll take money out of the jar and I'll buy it from the Pierson's," Will argued. "But you're NOT taking any more jobs." He felt his anger rising. "Were the kids with you?"

"Yes," Cara snapped.

Will sighed deeply, running his hand through his hair. "How long did you work?"

"Only about an hour."

"How much milk did you get?" His eyes narrowed when Cara didn't answer. With a pause, Will stepped away and opened the refrigerator, peering inside of it and seeing only the water that Emma had cleansed that they bottled. "Where is it?" Will asked, shutting the door. Cara looked away, feeling her face caught by Will. "Cara?" he asked with concern. She saw how his rising pulse had affected his expression.

"I didn't get it," she whispered, swallowing.

"Why the fuck not?" Will whispered back. "Did that bitch lie to you?"

"Will! Language!" Cara corrected hoarsely.

Her scolding didn't halt his heightening lividity. "Why didn't you get it, Cara?"

She chewed on her lip nervously, trying to fight the tears. "I … didn't get any …because I couldn't … Henry Pierson wanted me to …"

Will's hand slipped from Cara's cheek in shock, his heart stopping as his mind connected the dots to completely compose the sickening picture. He felt the blood drain from his face, his nostrils flaring as he grew more enraged at the thought with every passing second. "What did he do to you?" Will demanded, his voice bitter. Cara shook her head. "_What_ did he do, Cara?" Will repeated, swallowing as his voice rose.

"He … tried," Cara whispered, "but … Max protected me."

Will's heart stopped again but for a different reason. "What do you mean?"

Cara gulped. "Pierson wanted me to … He unzipped his pants and forced me on my knees … and Max read his thoughts. He knew Pierson was … going to hurt me. He … threw him and Pierson's knife into a wall. I ran home with the kids."

"That son of a bitch," Will shouted, grabbing his keys and heading toward the door, ready to kill Henry Pierson. "I'm going to castrate that fucking bastard!"

"No!" Cara grabbed Will's arm, stopping him. "Will, no," she whispered, taking the keys from Will's shaking fist, laying them on the table. "Will …" Her voice shook. "They know what Max can do now."

Will squeezed his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, trying to release the tension that had rapidly built inside of him. "We can't stay here anymore," Will finally said, looking closely at Cara, his hand finding his hair once again with a gruff exhale. "Not with people like Pierson near you, and not if he knows about Max."

Cara objected with a shake of her head. "Will … we don't have enough money to get another house. We just need to lay low for a while ... it'll all blow over."

Will growled at Cara's unintended pun, moistening his lips. "We need to leave."

Cara's eyes widened. "Will-"

"I can't do this anymore!" Will snapped, his boiling point well beyond reached. "I am NOT leaving you three unprotected!" He slammed his palm onto the counter in anger, a crack splitting easily through the formica. "This is all my fucking fault," he growled. "I'm NOT willing to risk you three anymore." He looked down at her, his eyes as intense as his son's. "We're getting on a boat tomorrow morning to California."

"What?! Tomorrow?" Cara asked, stunned. "Will, we don't even have tickets and-"

"The Censure is coming to Juneau and then Anchorage, Cara," Will interrupted softly, seeing her jaw drop. "That was my bad news. Michael told me about it. They've come to shut down the barter system. It's only a matter of time before they reach Kodiak."

"Oh my God," Cara whispered. "But … how would they know?"

Will gently ran his fingers through Cara's hair. "Michael thinks someone squealed in exchange for protection," he explained. "He said they've been heading up the Pacific coast. They're en route as we speak." He saw the fear in her eyes and gripped her hands. "Michael can get us on a boat tomorrow at five in the morning. He's leaving with Sasha, too. We just have to get down to the docks on Near Island by four. That was my worse news."

"And leave everything? Will, all the money we have is in this house. We can't afford tickets!"

Will shook his head. "We've got a thousand in the jar. And I purposely didn't pay the electric yet," he admitted. "Or the gas." He saw the shift in Cara's demeanor, knowing the secret he kept had struck her sourly.

"You've been planning this," she concluded, feeling angry. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"The same reason you didn't tell me about your job at Pierson's!" Will snapped. Cara became quiet - he was right, their motivation for their secrets were the same. "We've got to pack everything we can tonight when the kids go to bed."

"No, Will," Cara objected, "we're not keeping this from them. They need to know what's going on."

"They're … three! They can't possibly comprehend all of this. We'll tell them it's a vacation."

"No. We tell them what they _can_ comprehend. Will, they deserve to _really_ know why we are uprooting them in the dark of night."

Will sighed. "Fine. When I'm done talking to Max, I'll tell them."

"No, wait until dinner," Cara advised. "We'll discuss it as a family."

"Alright."

Will headed toward the bedroom where Max was waiting, pausing for a moment. "Cara," he said softly, "We'll pack the fish jerky, but cook everything else in the freezer." He gave her a small, crooked smile, hoping it would calm the storm in both of them. "We're feasting tonight."

* * *

The mattress sunk from his weight, Will coming to sit on Max's right side as the boy stared at the wall. Will's eyes followed Max's line of sight, smirking when he saw the small orange basketball, one of the very few toys the twins had, repeatedly sink into the torn net that was hung up across from them, Max not moving a muscle. "Hey," Will said softly, looking down at his son as he stroked the boy's crazed mane. "Let's talk about what happened in the kitchen." He heard the ball drop to the floor with a dribbled bounce and the little boy's exacerbated sigh. "You can't talk like that to your sister," Will explained. "It's not nice, nor is it true. Words like that hurt people."

"I know," Max said quietly, sniffing.

"I know you know, and I know you don't feel that way about Emma," Will agreed. "So why don't you tell me what's going on that made you upset?"

"Mommy always makes me keep secrets," Max complained. "Emma never has to keep secrets."

Will nodded. "You know what? You're right to feel upset about that. Keeping secrets isn't a good thing. In fact, it hurts people very much to keep secrets." He sighed, seeing the boy's eyes shift to his. "But you need to know that Mommy is trying to keep you safe. She loves you and Emma very much, just like I do."

"But if secrets hurt people, why should I keep them?"

"Sometimes secrets need to be kept, Max," Will explained. "For instance, the cool tricks you can do? People don't understand those special things about you. And those people that do, they want to hurt you because of those really awesome things you can do."

Max's eyes widened. "Why do people want to hurt me?"

Will's heart was breaking. "I wish I knew, Max," he replied. "Your Mommy and I will keep you safe, so you don't have to worry about anything. But, you need to listen to us and do what we say, okay? Even if it means keeping secrets." He paused, drawing the boy into his arms. "Alright, buddy?"

Max nodded against his father's chest. "Okay, Daddy." He pulled away, sighing. "Can I go say sorry to Emma?"

"Sure," Will said, "but first, there's one more thing I want to talk to you about."

"What?"

"I … I want to know what you heard at the Pierson's house."

Max swallowed loudly. "He's a bad man, Daddy," the boy whispered, seeing his father nod. "He wanted to hurt Mommy."

"And I'm glad you were able to protect Mommy," Will whispered back.

The boy began to cry, his small body shaking as Will wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into his lap. "Daddy, he said in his mind he wanted to fuck her," he gulped through hiccups.

"That's not a good word, Max" Will corrected as he smoothed Max's hair, feeling his teeth grinding together as he barely held back his rage. "Don't repeat that word."

"Sometimes you … say that word."

The guilt struck Will deeply. "I know. It's not good for Daddy to say either."

"What does it mean?"

"Don't worry about that. Just know it's not good, okay? Daddy will try to stop saying it too. But listen carefully to me - no matter what you may have heard or seen, just know that Mommy is okay. Mommy is safe. Alright?"

Max nodded. "Okay Daddy."

Pressing a warm kiss on the top of Max's head, Will released him. "Come on," he encouraged with a smile, "let's go. You and Emma can help me set the table. Mommy and Daddy have a surprise we want to share with you both while we eat dinner."

* * *

Corpus Christi, TX  
8:20 PM CST

The once sparkling tourist attraction of Corpus Christi lay deathly silent, a ghostly blanket of voided life seeming to cover the city under a dimming sky. Their conversation came to a halt once they passed the city welcoming sign that was surrounded by garbage and spray-painted with the words, "God has judged us" in shaky penmanship, florescent ink still bright though faded from the powerful setting sun. "Think anyone is here?" Reyes asked softly, observing through the front passenger window as Doggett drove.

"Plenty of people are still here," Mulder replied. "It's just a matter of what they've become."

The highway was vacant, a private strip of darkening road they continued on toward an unknown destination. "Where would the Insurgence be?" Scully pondered as she took in the dimly lit view. "Do we have any real idea other than here?"

"Not from my contact," Mulder answered. "He always gave me the sense that if we were right, the Insurgence would find us."

"Alright, so let's work on being right," Doggett concluded. "Where would we want to be if we were them?"

"By the water," Reyes concluded.

"Underground," Mulder added.

"Literally?" Doggett asked.

Mulder nodded. "Under a shit ton of magnetite."

"Mulder, magnetite is from iron ore, which is most commonly found in volcanic rock or mountainous geology," Scully observed. "We're in a place with palm trees and sand."

"She's right," Doggett agreed. "I doubt they're underground."

Mulder pursed his lips, hating the way he felt immediately outnumbered. "All I'm saying is, what's to stop an infiltration if not magnetite?" he argued.

"Maybe the location is discrete enough?" Reyes suggested.

"They can read minds. Nothing is discrete enough."

"You have a point, Mulder," Scully said softly, catching his eyes as they sat next to each other in the back seat.

"Alright," Doggett sighed, "so how do we find out what building is made of magnetite?"

Without warning, two of the SUV's tires blew, causing everyone to jump in surprise at the loud pop they made and the grinding of the car traveling against the bare wheel. Because of the high speed they were going at, the car shuddered and jerked, lurching forward as Doggett applied the brakes. "Shit!" he growled when they finally halted. "That wasn't a damn nail either."

Each of them withdrew their guns quickly, knowing whatever caused their sudden disablement was set purposely in their path. "Stay in here," Mulder said to Scully as he cautiously exited the parked car before Scully could object. Doggett followed suit, the two women exchanging worried looks as they gripped their weapons, keeping their eyes on the continually darkening city around them. Within only a few moments, the night had enveloped Doggett and Mulder, taking them from view. The silence made Reyes and Scully both uneasy.

"I'm going out," Scully said softly to Reyes, climbing out through her door, her gun aimed as she stepped down onto the dirt, Reyes following suit. With grace and fluidity that both surprised and impressed, Scully felt herself be drawn against a masked person while losing her gun, the cold tip of a weapon pressed to the back of her neck. Her eyes widened as she saw the outline of Reyes caught in the same manner by another masked figure in the dark, knowing most likely the same had been done to Mulder and Doggett. Fingers clawed at her shirt's neck, the person yanking it downward to examine her skin.

"Walk," the person ordered as their fingers released the shirt. Scully felt herself be shoved around to the other side of the car, blinking as she tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness to see better. She was comforted by the sight of Mulder still alive, he and Doggett held in similar fashions.

"What a piece of work is a man," a strong, male voice in a hypnotic Australian accent stated clearly, pausing with purpose.

Scully's eyebrow arched as she heard Mulder speak with little hesitation. "How noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god."

There was a thick silence, the four disguised figures holding them seeming to not make a single noise even with their breath. "Which of you is Mulder?" the strong, accented voice asked.

"Me," Mulder said softly, nodding.

"Do you travel in trust?" the voice questioned.

"Yes," Mulder replied.

Scully felt herself be released, swallowing as she kept her eyes on Mulder. "And therefore as a stranger give it welcome," the voice challenged again, the tall, broad figure it belonged to stepping toward Mulder.

Without missing a beat, Mulder replied, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

_Shakespeare?_ Scully thought, baffled as she saw the figures remove their ski masks, each unveiling young men who looked no older than her own son. "Please forgive us. Our methods bear reason," the man with the accent who initially spoke to Mulder explained with apology. "Nightwatcher told us of your coming, but one can never be too sure these days."

"Nightwatcher?" Doggett asked, baffled.

"It was his code name," the man explained, his eyes still on Mulder. "Fox Mulder knows of him."

Mulder nodded. "He was my contact for the Insurgence." He paused. "How did you know I would know the passages from Hamlet?" he asked.

"Nightwatcher assured me you were quick on your feet," the young man replied with a wide grin. "Just be glad you did."

"What happened to Nightwatcher?"

"He was lost in an effort to save many, though many never believed," the young man with an accent said, his sandy-brown hair dancing in the gentle coastal breeze. "Nightwatcher told me of your connection to me, though I doubt he paid you the same respect." He paused. "I reckon you're Agents Doggett and Reyes," he noted, looking at the two at his right. He glanced back at Scully. "Doctor Scully," he acknowledged gently, almost reverently.

"Yes, but who are you?" Scully asked; the tall, built man before her was incredibly handsome, charisma seeming to permeate from him with every breath.

"My name is Cyrus English," the young man said quietly, his icy blue eyes sharp even in the darkness. "I'm the leader of The Insurgence."

"English?" Mulder murmured, surprised.

"Yes," Cyrus replied, still looking at Scully. He turned, meeting Mulder's eyes. "I'm Caraline's brother."


	5. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Kodiak Island, AK

"My tummy hurts," Emma said as she chewed on her last piece of crusted fish that Cara had made from all of the eggs, bread and meat they had in the house, which didn't amount to very much but was far more than she normally portioned out in her attempt to stretch their supplies. Aside from the dried jerky, their refrigerator and freezer was cleaned out, the family stuffing themselves like never before.

"Mine too," Max agreed. "Mommy, you made a lot of food."

Cara smiled. "Daddy was hungry tonight," she replied softly, looking across at Will, who nodded slightly.

"I was," Will agreed, swallowing his last bite of fish. "I also wanted to make sure you both had a lot of energy for the big surprise Mommy and I have."

Emma's green eyes widened, her petal pink lips parting. "A surprise?" she breathed.

"Tell us, Daddy!" Max begged.

"Well, first I need you both to promise two things," Will said, sipping his water. "First, I need you to promise to help prepare for the surprise. And second, I need you to promise to listen to Mommy and Daddy at all times."

"We promise!" the twins squealed together.

Will glanced at Cara, who looked down at her plate nervously. "Alright," he said, sighing as he looked back at the kids, "the surprise is … Santa Claus is coming tonight."

"He is?" Emma asked. "But he's early!"

"Santa doesn't come in the summer, Daddy," Max corrected.

"Oh yeah," Will said, nodding. He saw out of the corner of his eye the small smile he managed to elicit from Cara. "Just kidding." His own smile grew wide. "The real surprise is that we're going on a trip."

"A trip?" Max exclaimed. "Oh wow! Like a bay-kay-shin?"

"Sort of like a vay-cay-shun," Will replied. "Except … it's going to be a long one." Cara cleared her throat, gaining Will's attention. He shut his eyes. "You know what, Max?" Will said softly. "We are going on a trip, but it's not a vacation."

"Then what kind of trip is it?" Emma asked.

"It's … a trip to a place called New Mexico."

"But …" Max's brow furrowed. "When Tommy Fisher went on a trip a year ago, he came back. He said it was a vacation."

"That's the thing," Will said quietly. "We're not coming back, Max."

The room fell silent; Will's heart raced as he examined the twins. He wished he could dive into their minds to analyze their internal reaction. "Why, Daddy?" Max asked. "You don't like our house anymore?"

Will shook his head. "No, I love our house," he replied. "But sometimes, people need to move for different reasons. We need to move so we can all be together and be happy."

"When are we moving?" Emma questioned softly.

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes, princess."

The little girl's eyes began to water; she glanced over her shoulder toward the twins' bedroom. "But … but Dana is here! I can't leave Dana!" Emma's dark-haired doll had earned the name Dana by the little girl, something that had stunned both Cara and Will when Emma announced it. The doll had been an heirloom of Will's father's family and was passed down to Emma, though Will and Cara were careful not to reveal the origin to Emma. Will concluded that the must have had some sort of memory of his mother, though it seemed unlikely. It couldn't be explained otherwise.

"Oh, baby," Cara whispered, stroking her daughter's hair, "we can take Dana."

"We can?" Emma sniffed.

"Of course."

"Can I take my basketball?" Max asked.

"Of course, baby. We can take all of your toys."

The two children seemed to relax at Cara's assurance. The children didn't have more than a few toys combined, most of which were dumpster finds Will salvaged and cleaned up from bins near logging sites. "That's why we will need your help," Will chimed in. "We need to pack your things before bathtime. And … you both have to get to bed a little earlier than usual."

"Aww, why?" Max whined.

"We have to leave very early in the morning to get on the boat."

"A boat?" Emma asked, shocked. "Will we all fit?"

Will laughed. "Yes, princess. It's bigger than the boat in the tub."

"How big?"

"As big as this house at least."

"Whoa!" the twins oohed in unison.

"So …" Max sighed softly. "We're never ever coming back?"

Will shook his head. "No, buddy. We're not."

"I'm gonna miss our bed," Emma said sadly.

"Me too," Max agreed.

"You'll have a new one," Will insisted. "Maybe even one of your very own."

"But I like sharing," Emma pouted. "Max tells me stories."

"You can still share, if you both want to," Cara insisted. The group was quiet for a long while, each seeming to be consumed with their own thoughts of the sudden shift in their world's dynamic. "Why don't you three get started?" Cara finally said, standing. "I'll clean up and join you in a bit."

Will saw the way Cara was trying to distract herself with the dishes, her emotions running wild. "Okay, little Mulders, let's go," he urged, the kids scrambling from their seats toward the bedroom, Will following reluctantly behind after trying - and failing - to find comforting words for Cara.

* * *

Corpus Christi, TX  
8:56 PM CST

Cyrus had opted to ride in the backseat with Mulder and Scully as Doggett followed the black SUV in front of them that was leading them to the encampment, knowing just as many questions were going to be asked as he wanted answered. "I propose a fair exchange of information," Cyrus said quietly, looking out of the window as Mulder sat in the middle between him and Scully. "Your questions first."

"How are you Caraline's brother?" Mulder asked quietly.

Cyrus' smile formed playfully over his lips. "I suppose by the same means as she is my sis," he replied, receiving a half grin from Mulder.

"Yet she never knew you?" Scully asked.

"We share a father, but not a mother," Cyrus explained. "I was the product of a tempestuous college affair between my old-man, the charming, already-engaged, brilliant science student 'n my mother, the free-spirited Aussie actress on holiday with a fascination for Persian literature, as the story goes. Hence, my first name. For obvious reasons, my identity was kept secret from Caraline and her mother. Helps I was born and raised down-under until I was sixteen."

"Are you a Shield?" Reyes questioned.

Cyrus nodded. "Yes, as are most of the members of the Insurgence. It's how we've kept off the radar from the Censure." Cyrus paused with a smirk. "But I must admit, I'm not a corker like my sis. I've just got enough hatred for the Colonists to make me smart. Anyway, our old-man began the experiments on me in secret … a sort of pre pre-flight trial, if you will. The Syndicate knew nothing of what our father did with me, given it was all completed in secrecy from them prior to the mass experiments in the compound. Being that I wasn't as desired by the Colonists as Caraline, he let me kept my memories."

"How did you find out about Caraline?" Doggett asked.

"Ah," Cyrus smiled, "that's where it gets barro." He stopped, laughing gently with the silent memory. "I hit on her in a pub in Hoboken three years ago while on holiday seeing our father. Thought she was lush."

"What?" Scully asked, surprised.

"Now before you pass judgment, you should remember that I'd never met my sis or seen a picture at that point," Cyrus chastised with a handsome grin. "It was during that holiday that our father confessed her existence to me, so I only knew her name. I wanted to know more about her, but our father refused to show me what she looked like for her own safety. And at that time, they were estranged, so finding her through him wasn't possible. I went to the pub to try to deal with the whole revelation. It's a bit troubling to learn you've got family you never knew you had. Anyway, I'd tipped back a bit of the grog, only a couple middies, so I still had my head about me when she came up to the counter and ordered a Long Island Iced Tea." Cyrus laughed heartily. "I tried to advise her against it, since she seemed like a lightweight. I told her that all Long Island Iced Teas did were guarantee that the blokes in the pub would think they'd have a fair go to get in her knickers. The most embarrassing thing about it all was that she actually flirted back with me. We bantered for a bit, but as soon as I shook hands with her and realized from our physical connection that she was a Shield, I backed off."

"Your physical connection?" Doggett asked.

"Yeah, mate," Cyrus confirmed with a nod. "Every Shield shares a unique perception of compatible chemistry purposely embedded into our DNA. Even siblings, unfortunately. Though as a whole our ethics mostly trump these unnaturally natural desires, I will say that I've seen and heard a few Shields succumb to them." He sighed. "It was one of the largest flaws in the system. Our old-man eventually caught on to his mistake over the four years the compound was in operation 'n began selecting only one child per bloodline for tests. However, his desire to save his daughter was greater than his concern for what I might do in the future, so he converted her anyway. Taking away her memories made her more vulnerable, though, so I knew to be careful each time I encountered a female Shield I didn't know." Cyrus sighed. "The people who played God with our lives only painted the outline of the picture, leaving us lab rats to figure out the details."

The car grew silent, each dwelling on Cyrus' words. "Shields were meant to procreate for this exact time we live in now, to grow in numbers 'n bring an uprising, a revolt against the injustices of the Colonists. Still, as soon as I knew my sis was out there, I knew I couldn't take the risk. I knew I needed to steer clear of all that was natural for me to protect her. Then in the pub, she told me her name, and I …" Cyrus stopped, his eyes shutting. "I was relieved that I knew what she looked like 'n didn't have to wait hardly at all. But I also then had to pretend I was the most revolting thing in the world so she wouldn't pursue me." Another wide grin formed on his face as he opened his eyes. "But she did, of course. No one could blame her for it - she had no idea it was so ingrained in her." He looked over at Mulder, then Scully. "That's when I met your son. Rather, I should say I met his fist in my face."

Mulder's eyebrow raised. "William punched you?" he asked, surprised.

"I remember thinking that he had a damn good arm for a human, 'least I thought he was at the time. I put it together shortly after, though. I would say I had it coming, the way I was acting toward Caraline," Cyrus said with a laugh. "I didn't have to have his mind-reading ability to know he wanted me to nick-off."

"So why didn't you tell Cara who you were?" Reyes asked.

"For protection," Cyrus explained. "She was at danger if she knew who she was, what had been done to her, what she was designed for. Besides, once I figured out that she was already exactly where she needed to be with William by nothing short of a miracle, I didn't see the need to interfere. I kept tabs on her in Hoboken in secret for over a year, then moved down here to build the Insurgence in anticipation of last December. I found as many Shields as I could, but there's still more out there, all over the world. Including Caraline. I kept up with the news regarding William in January of two thousand twelve, then later received information on Caraline's involvement through Brody Wesson. After his death, though, I feared for her safety. But by that point, I had no idea where she went. She disappeared. Couldn't get ahold of our old-man either." Cyrus didn't seem to notice the discrete wince that spread across each face at the mention of Timothy English. "Nightwatcher told me a few months ago that you were William's father," Cyrus said to Mulder, "so I gave him information to help you find us here in hopes William 'n Caraline would be with you when you arrived."

"That would have been our hope, too," Mulder said softly. "Except now, we don't know where they are."

The disappointment was clear on Cyrus' face. "I see." Scully saw how hurt he was, the worry resting in his tightening jaw. "She's with William, though?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Scully replied. "And their children."

Cyrus choked on his own saliva. "Their _what_?" he asked through a cough, astonished.

"William and Caraline had twins nine months ago," Mulder explained gently. "A boy and a girl, Max and Emma."

Cyrus was quiet for a long time, his large hand finding his thick brows and rubbing across them repeatedly. "I see," he finally said, his tone cool, leaning toward sarcastic. "So he got my little sis preggers, did he? Well ain't that a ripper." He inhaled deeply, his hand dropping to his lap as his knee began to bounce, the agitation clear in his actions.

"They're married," Scully added quietly.

"At least he's decent, then," Cyrus mumbled, still visibly bothered.

"He loves her more than life itself," Mulder assured.

Cyrus' lips pressed tightly together as he glanced at Mulder. "Yeah, well when I officially meet the Yank, he'll be needing to answer to me for a bit, no offense."

"I understand."

"I reckon the children are gifted?" Cyrus asked.

"Very. Emma is the reason we can still eat from the oceans and streams. And Max is the only reason William and Cara are still alive."

"How do you figure?"

"Emma has power to cleanse water, and Max's presence alone weakens replacements and Colonists, except for William," Mulder gently explained. "The twins ... the twins are part of a prophecy, two hero children with power beyond understanding."

Cyrus was quiet for a moment. "'N you have no clue where they are?"

"No. We were hoping the Insurgence would be able to help us find them."

Cyrus nodded with a sigh. "Well, I might have a bloke back at the camp who can give it a fair go with your help." Cyrus looked out of his window, tilting his head. "Speaking of which, we're here, mates."

Doggett pulled behind the SUV that parked in the rear of a large building. "Agent Doggett," Cyrus said quietly, "I hope you don't mind, but I'm afraid we're going to have to torch the car."

"Wait, why?" Doggett asked.

"It's all traceable," Cyrus explained, swinging open the door and sliding out of his seat, the rest following suit. Mulder, Scully, Doggett and Reyes took in through the darkened atmosphere the large lot in front of them with several buildings on it, the entire area surrounded by a tall, thick wall - a regular fortress in the middle of a once-populated area, a city within a city. "We got to building it under the guise of a rehab facility," Cyrus explained. "Kind of ironic we were able to get the same government now trying to nick us all off to previously fund the only safe haven left." Cyrus sighed. "Anyway, Agent Doggett, it's a risk to bring you lot here, since our power is diluted with each human introduced to the camp. Best not to press Lady Luck with the car, eh mate?"

"I guess in that case, who am I to argue?"

"Excellent." Cyrus gestured to the other three men who exited the car in front of them. "Meet Tad, Nick and Charlie," he said, pointing each one out. "Again, my apologies for our rude first impression. These blokes aren't all that bad once you get to know them, though Charlie can be a bit of a hoon." Cyrus played slapped Charlie on the back.

"Yeah, I'm the hoon my arse, Wanker," Charlie teased back in a faux accent to mock Cyrus, the interaction fondly reminding Mulder of his time spent in Oxford as a young man.

"Hey," Cyrus cut him off "watch your cakehole in front of the janes, eh?" Cyrus turned to Scully and Reyes, his eyes sparkling and his grin magnetic. "My apologies, ladies. We don't get out much."

Mulder watched the three young men unload Doggett's car, slinging travel bags over their fit frames easily. "Nick and Charlie will get you settled," Cyrus said, quietly turning away from the others. "Supposing we find Caraline 'n William, we'll be needing proper furnishings for the kids," he mumbled to Tad, who nodded, gently taking Doggett's keys. "Everything out that you want, mates?" Cyrus asked the four, who nodded after checking. "Alright, beautiful."

"What about your questions?" Mulder asked Cyrus as they followed him, Nick and Charlie further into the camp.

"I'm figuring you each could eat a horse 'n chase the jockey, am I right?" Cyrus asked; he took their silence as agreement. "We've got plenty of prawns and fish from the barbie, even some homemade bubble and squeak made with our own veggies, so don't be shy."

"Bubble and squeak?" Scully asked with confusion.

Cyrus laughed; Scully couldn't help but notice his imminent charisma through the booming timbre. It was as if everything about the unique power of attraction implemented into the genetics of all Shields was inspired by him - a stunningly handsome, brawny, suave and seemingly fearless young man. Though she herself didn't desire Cyrus in that manner, she knew there must have been plenty of other women fawning at his feet. "That's shallow fried potato and cabbage pies for you Yanks. You can't appreciate it now in the dark, but we've got a whole greenhouse full of food we maintain. I'll give you the grand tour in the morning."

"I think my stomach just growled at the thought of vegetables," Reyes remarked quietly, catching Cyrus' bright smile.

"I'm also gonna go out on a limb and say you'd each like to hit the hay in peace for once, yeah?" Cyrus asked; he paused, sighing. "Besides, I've got quite enough to fill my mind for tonight. No sense in trying to cram in more."

As they processed toward one of the many buildings, a large boom resounded behind them. Mulder, Scully, Doggett and Reyes jumped in surprise, turning back to see the large orange fireball glowing in the distance. "Just call it the start of your new life, mates," Cyrus remarked, not flinching at the large explosion. "G'night," he added as he slipped behind a door out of sight.

* * *

11:18 PM AKST

She felt his arms wrap around her, his warmth enveloping her as his unique, musky scent combined with the essence of cheap soap filled her nostrils. His toned body, only half dressed in boxers, pressed against her, his lips finding the conjunction of her neck and shoulder. He gave moist, lingering kisses repeatedly on her skin. "You should be sleeping," he murmured. She felt a drip of water fall onto her arm from his freshly-showered hair, cascading down into the strap of her nightgown.

"We should try to get ahold of them, Will," Cara whispered, leaning back into Will's embrace, taking his hand into hers.

"It's too dangerous."

"What if they're not there?"

"Where would they go? Shiprock was suppose to be safe for them."

"Is anywhere really safe?"

Will sighed. "If they have a computer, I'll send an email on the boat, then." He kissed her neck area again. "You sure you packed everything you want?" he whispered.

"Yeah," she replied. "You?"

"I only need to pack the three of you." Will tried to stifle a yawn. "Sorry," he murmured.

"No, sleep," Cara insisted gently, squeezing his hand. "You've been working so hard for so long."

"So have you."

"It's not a competition."

"I know," Will replied, resting his shadowed chin on her bare shoulder, pressing his nose into her hair. "Neither is who can hold back the most feelings." She was quiet; her breathing remained slow though she was jolted by his words. "I know this isn't easy for you," he whispered. "I keep doing this to you. I keep promising you a home, a family … and I keep taking the stability away. I'm sorry for that."

Cara shifted in Will's arms, turning to face him. "Will, I'm not upset because of that," she assured. "I'm … I'm just worried in general."

"I know. Me too."

"As long as I have my Superman, I'm alright, though."

Will stroked her cheek tenderly. "I'm yours, Lois Lane." His lips found hers, underlying desire more than evident in the lavishing attention he paid them. A soft moan from the depths of her throat was all the encouragement he needed - he lifted himself over her, parting her lips further with his tongue as his hands roamed over the curve of her waist and hips. His fingers sought the hem of the short babydoll nightgown she wore and he groaned when they finally hit the sacred flesh the lilac purple fabric had been concealing.

His mouth journeyed down the side of her face, the whisper soft sounds she was making deep within her larynx driving him wild though he forced himself to keep the slow pace he was setting. He didn't want to rush it, since he didn't know when they would have the chance for such intimacy again. He slid the straps of her garment from her silky shoulders, his kisses following the trail his hands blazed south toward her breasts, skimming the fullness of them with deft fingertips. His control was quickly reaching its limit as she arched underneath him at his touch, her body being pulled up gracefully toward him like an exquisite puppet on delicate strings. The blood coursed through his veins, ferocity beginning to subtly manifest itself through the gentle nips sandwiched between kisses on the delicate skin in the valley he dove into. Her fingers weaving into his still-damp hair gave him encouragement. As his mouth roamed across the flesh that was exposed, his hands found the material that separated him from his coveted prizes and slowly peeled it away, the vibrations in his throat from his satisfied moan rumbling against her chest.

Cara gasped in shock when she suddenly saw Will fly into the wall across from the bed, his head and back slamming against it as he groaned in pain. She sat up, yanking the straps to her nightgown up quickly to cover herself as she looked toward the empty doorway in fear. She turned back, seeing Will slump to the floor. "Will!" she exclaimed, jumping out of bed and falling to her knees beside him.

The gentle sniffles and the sound of his small cries startled her, Cara's eyes turning to see Max standing in their opened doorway partially lit by the hallway nightlight. "Max," she breathed. "W-what …" She turned her attention back to Will, who stood easily, shaking off the attack as he helped Cara to her feet.

"Max," Will said softly, releasing Cara's hands as he crossed toward his son, who continued crying. "Max, buddy, what's wrong?"

"I'm …sorry," Max whispered. "I … thought you were hurting Mommy. Like … like Mister Pierson."

Will's eyes shut, his stomach turning at the answer the child gave him as he drew Max into his arms in a tender embrace. "Hey," he whispered, feeling the boy shudder against him, his sobs getting louder. "Hey, it's alright, buddy."

"I'm sorry, Daddy-"

"Shh," Will said, catching a glimpse of Cara before picking up Max, bringing him to sit between them on the bed. "It's alright, son. It's alright." When Max's tears seemed to subside, Will pet his head, his arm still around him. "Listen," he said softly, "I wasn't hurting Mommy."

"It looked the same," Max justified.

"Yeah," Will said with a nod, "I'm sure it reminded you of that. Except it's much, much different. See ..." Will paused, inhaling deeply. "See, when Daddy touches Mommy like that, it's okay because we love each other. That's what daddies and mommies do. But it's not okay for someone else to touch Mommy like that. Because they aren't married to Mommy."

"Oh," Max sniffed, a soft hiccup jolting his small body. "I think I get it."

"Why are you up, Max?" Cara asked gently.

"I had a bad dream."

Cara stroked Max's cheek. "What about, baby?"

"About …" Max paused, looking away from Cara.

"About what?"

"You said I couldn't talk about it anymore," Max murmured.

Cara saw Will's confused look he gave her; she turned back to Max. "You can tell us anything, baby."

"It was … about Grandpa and Grandma."

Will's eyebrow raised; Cara shook her head gently, as if to say she'd explain later. "What happened in the dream?" she asked Max.

"There was a big fire," Max replied. "And … and Grandpa and Grandma's house burned down. Then Grandma cried because she misses Daddy. And you, Mommy. And me and Emmie."

"Did Grandpa or Grandma get hurt in the fire?" Will asked softly.

"No," Max replied. "But they were very sad. And they don't have a home now. Just like me."

"Oh sweetheart," Cara whispered, pulling the boy to her chest. "You'll always have a home. Your home is wherever Mommy, Daddy and Emma are. Houses are nice … but houses aren't homes. A home is in your heart." She touched the boy's chest, kissing his head. "And I'm sure Grandma and Grandpa are okay, because they have homes in their hearts too."

"You think so?" Max whispered.

"I know so," Cara whispered back, kissing her son.

"Come on, little guy," Will said, scooping the boy into his arms. "Let's get you back in bed."

When Will re-appeared a little while later, he shut the bedroom door softly, his eyes falling on Cara, who was laying quietly with the blankets tucked up to her chin protectively. Remembering Max's explanation for his actions, Will slowly climbed back into bed, his arms seeking Cara and embracing her from behind. "Do you think his dream was a dream, Will?" he heard her ask softly, her eyes still focused ahead on the wall.

"What else would it be other than a compilation of sketchy infant-hood memories and fears?" he murmured.

"He told me this morning about a dream he had about your father," she explained. "How his name was Fox, but he didn't like to be called that. It reminded me of when we were in the hospital with them as newborns. I watched your father hold him and say something like that to him once."

"You think he'd remember that time period of his life?"

"I don't know."

"Me either." Will sighed, his mind still focused on Max's assumptions from before.

"Sorry."

Will's brow wrinkled. "For what?"

"For not backing you up on the whole Mommy and Daddy kissing thing," she explained. "I guess I just wasn't prepared to already have ... that conversation."

"Yeah, me either," Will murmured. The backs of his fingers found her soft cheekbones. "I don't think either of us were prepared for what brought it on, either." He saw her swallow softly, her eyes closing. "I want to kill him. I can't stop thinking about how much I want to kill him," Will confessed softly, holding her a little tighter.

"I know," she replied, opening her eyes. "That's what scares me."

"Not what he did?"

She knew Will knew the true source of her fear. "What scares me the most is that I think I would've done it," she whispered shakily. "He threatened Max's and Emma's lives … He said he'd hurt them if I didn't." He saw a tear fall from her eye. "I put them in danger, Will," she said, more tears falling. "I was trying to provide for them but all I did was hurt them."

"Cara, listen to me," Will said, turning her to face him and wiping her tears. "You did nothing wrong. He's the one to blame, not you."

"Then why do I feel like I've failed?" she asked, searching Will's eyes.

Will knew her current state of mind all too well - a mess of tangled emotions he never wished for her to experience or have to shoulder. "Welcome to my world," he joked dryly, enveloping her in his arms as his hands stroked her to sleep - sleep he couldn't seem to find for himself.

* * *

June 23, 2013  
Mount Weather, VA  
3:18 AM EST

"Six months, and still nothing? Perhaps I was wrong to think you were capable of the task." The Smoking Man's frown was clearly visible as he stood in front of the small group of individuals, the haze of smoke surrounding him.

"They're powerful, sir," a replacement toward the rear of the group said softly. "Their genetics make them difficult to find."

"We've got a unit patrolling the Pacific coast again," a deep-voiced replacement offered slowly, catching the Smoking Man's eyes. "We've heard rumors of them possibly being in Alaska."

The Smoking Man took a long, purposeful drag on his cigarette. "Yes. Alaska. Of course." He exhaled his bitterness through his words. "The _darling daughter_ has ensured a rather large food source that would make Alaska an enticing stay." He inhaled on the stem again. "Intercept any planes or vessels heading to or from Alaska. I _want_ the children of William Mulder _found_, as well as the rest of their family," he commanded savagely.

"Sir," another replacement said quietly, "we've lost our location on Mulder and Scully."

The Smoking Man exhaled, eying the replacements in front of him with anger. "Then find them," he snapped. "Do your job, or I'll expel each of you and have others do it for you." He dropped the spent cigarette, slamming and crushing it with his foot. "Consider this your last warning. I've not been prophesied by even the holiest and most pure of men to be as generous as I am currently being." His eyes narrowed; his voice took on a vile tone. "Don't make Lucifer second guess himself."


	6. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 4

Near Island, AK  
3:50 AM AKST

The private vessel set to make the five day trip to California was smaller than Will had thought it would be, though there appeared to be at least two levels inside of it. Carrying all four bags, Will wrapped his arm around Cara protectively as they walked quickly to the darkened dock, Emma clinging to Cara's neck as she was carried while Max held his father's hand, wanting to walk. Will knew they had ten minutes, which wasn't much time, so as subtly as he could, he urged his family forward, feeling relieved to see the ticket window still lit and attended. Cara stayed behind with the bags and children while Will approached the booth. "Hi," he said softly, offering a small smile. "I'd like four tickets, please."

"You've got a reservation?" the man asked, his eyebrow arched as he took a swig of an unknown liquid from a bottle wrapped in a brown bag.

"No," Will replied carefully, "but-"

The man pointed to a clipboard in front of Will on the counter. "Then add your name to the list and if there's room you'll be called."

Will's lips parted. "Sir, I-"

"Next," the man said, looking over Will's shoulder at the man behind him. Will was stunned, his body shifting to his left automatically while his mind tried to process what was happening. "Oh hey there, Ben," the man behind the window said to the next patron, handing him a set of tickets. "Got your four here. That'll be two-fifty."

"Sir," Will spoke up after the other man paid and moved away, "I need to get on that boat."

"You and every other idiot who didn't think ahead," the ticket man sneered.

"Listen." Will forced himself to remain calm, knowing how much he wanted to protect Cara and the children by removing them from Alaska. "What'll it take, huh? What if I pad the bill?"

"You trying to bribe me?" the ticket man asked, lifting his chin as he looked at Will.

"I'm just trying to get us on that boat," Will replied. "So what it'll take?"

The ticket man saw the way Will covered the cash in his fist, smirking. "Five hundred," the ticket man said firmly.

"Five hundred?" Will asked, shocked. "You just sold four tickets for two-fifty!"

"He had a reservation."

"Look, I-"

"Listen, punk," the man interrupted, "it's five hundred to get on my ship or you and your little family are swimming to California."

Will chewed on his bottom lip in disgust, shaking his head as he peeled off the bills from his wad in his fist. With force, he shoved the bills under toward the captain through the beveled silver tray opening. "Alright," the captain said with a satisfied grin, "four tickets." Will took what the captain referred to as the tickets, feeling duped as he examined the unprofessional pieces of paper that contained hand-written information. "Third class cabin. Hope that's alright for ya."

Through a muttered growl, Will left the booth, trying to clear the obscenities from his head before he reached his son. "What's wrong?" Cara whispered as she clutched Emma and held Max's hand, seeing the distress on his face.

"Apparently we needed a reservation," Will murmured angrily.

"Oh, Will …"

"We got a cabin, though," he assured, which confused Cara even more.

"Then what's wrong?"

"I had to pay double to get it."

"Double?" she whispered loudly. "Double of what?"

"I paid five hundred."

"Will!" Cara exclaimed in a whisper. "We've only got eight hundred left, and we still need to get to New Mexico from California, not to mention feed the kids!"

"What would you have me do, Cara?" Will asked, feeling agitated. Cara shut her eyes, shaking her head gently. "Look, we'll make it, alright?" he promised softly. "I'm not stopping until we do."

* * *

4:42 AM AKST

Cara and Will trudged down the stairs each clutching a child to the seemingly vacant third level of the ship, which felt more like a dingy basement than an area with cabins. "This is fitting," Will grumbled, seeing the door that matched the information marked on the hand-written stub.

He twisted the knob open, revealing an impossibly small space with a twin-sized bed and a folding chair on the opposite wall. A single light bulb overhead lit the windowless room. The floor was cold and cracked, and the air surrounding them was damp and chilly. "Well," Cara said softly as Will shut the door and tossed the bags into the empty corner of the tiny cabin, "I guess it could be worse."

"Mommy," Emma whispered, her eyes wide as she looked around, "is this our new house?"

"No, sweetie," Cara assured. "We're only going to be here for a few days."

"There's no lock," Will shouted angrily, pacing away from the door he was examining.

"It's alright, Will," Cara whispered.

"No, it's not!" Will retorted. "That son of a bitch took five hundred dollars from us to stick us in a shithole!"

"Will! Language!"

With a gnarl, Will turned away from her and the children, facing the wall as he pressed his palms flat against it, breathing deeply to try to calm himself. "Is Daddy mad at us?" Max whispered to Cara.

"No, baby. Daddy isn't mad at any of us. He's just upset because … someone tricked him."

"Oh."

"Hey," Cara smiled down at her children, "why don't the two of you get some sleep, okay? Then when you get up we can eat breakfast." Pulling back the thin blanket and sheet from the twin sized bed they were sitting on, she removed the twins' shoes and tucked them under the covers tenderly, kissing them each.

"Mommy," Emma whispered, settling in next to Max, "can you sing us a song?"

"Sure baby."

"Can you sing Mister Sun?"

Cara took a deep breath, combing Emma's curls away from her face, then moving Max's rumpled brown hair from his eyes. As she began singing softly, Will turned, watching the scene intently, his anger subsiding as his heart filled at the sight of Cara and his children. He smiled softly as he saw the twins' eyes drooping closed, their small mouths open as they eased into rest. After Cara was finished placing the blanket around them, she slowly stood in the silence, backing away from the bed. She gasped softly when Will took her into his arms from behind, securing her back against his chest. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"You scared them, Will," Cara whispered back, feeling his hands tighten.

"I scared myself," he admitted. She turned to face him, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"I still feel it so much, Cara," Will explained. "The darkness. It's still there. I thought … I guess I thought Max and Emma's birth would have rid me of it. But it still haunts me. Everyday it tries to have me. I fight against it every waking moment, it seems."

She stroked Will's stubbled cheek. "I don't think how things are in the world right now help you too much, either," she commented, Will's warm breath coasting over her thumb as it brushed over his lips.

"I pray Max and Emma don't have the same struggle."

"Me too."

Cara's shiver was enough signal to Will, who drew her into his arms, sharing his warmth with her. "I love you," he breathed into her neck, kissing her just below her earlobe.

"I love you," she whispered against his chest.

"Go sneak in with the kids," Will urged. "There's room for you on the bed."

"No, Will. I'll sleep next to you."

"I'm not letting you sleep on this disgusting floor."

"You don't really have a say where I sleep, Will," Cara said firmly, eying him as she pulled away from his body a little.

"Why are you so stubborn?" he asked, admiring the color of her eyes in the light that shone from overhead.

"Because I can be," she replied, a slow smile washing over her face as he sighed in defeat. She felt herself being guided to the floor in Will's arms, he making sure she was fully enveloped to him to keep her off of the cold tile as much as possible. "See?" she said as he held her tightly. "Just like camping."

"You've never been camping."

"How do you know?"

"You never told me about it."

"Do you think I've told you everything about me?"

Will's eyebrow arched, looking into her eyes. "What haven't you told me?" Cara's smirk made him uneasy as she nestled her head back down to his chest. "Caraline Mulder, what secrets are you keeping?" he murmured, intrigued when he realized she was playing a flirtatious game.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I would, actually. I want to know _everything_." His voice was sensual in her ear; she felt her skin flush like a schoolgirl.

"Not now," she whispered.

"Why?" he asked innocently, his mouth teasing her neck anything but.

"Will!"

"What?"

She smiled at him, her fingertips tracing his face. "Later," she said with a soft yawn, her head coming to lay on his chest. Before he could come up with a witty retort, she was fast asleep, he following shortly behind.

* * *

Insurgence Camp  
Corpus Christi, TX  
9:57 AM CST

_There's something to be said for safety,_ Mulder thought as he eyed the digital clock next to the bed in his and Scully's apartment-esque suite. Mulder couldn't remember the last time he had slept so well without medication or alcohol. He was surprised to find the bed empty next to him, but relieved when he heard the faint drip of the shower in the bathroom on the other side of the wide space.

It was an impressive-sized room complete with a king-sized bed and modern furnishings. It felt more like a penthouse suite in a hotel than a camp of refuge. The camp had surprised him in even in the dark the night before when they first arrived, and he knew now that it continued to hold many secrets waiting to be unveiled.

Once he and Scully were both showered and dressed, they hesitantly made their way down the carpeted hall, coming to a large staircase that brought them down two levels to a shared living space. An open recreational room was dotted with comfortable, plush sofas, a television glowing in the corner with the national news on a low volume. Shelves of books - hundreds of books - filled an entire wall, two tables set up with chairs like those found in a library for research and education. "This is …" Scully couldn't finish her sentence, baffled by the place they now found themselves calling home.

"Why do I feel like I should either be wearing a straitjacket or sitting in a wheelchair?" Mulder whispered, smiling politely as he inadvertently caught the skeptical eyes of a few people across the room.

"I guess that's how Cyrus protected it, by making it feel like a medical facility."

"It's a commune, Scully. I don't think I'm cut out for commune living."

"Mulder, we essentially have our own apartment. We're only sharing kitchen facilities. It sure beats the hell out of abandoned motels."

She had a point. He sighed, his eyes falling on Doggett and Reyes, who made their way down the staircase. "Oh, you two are finally up," Doggett said with a smile. "We were just looking for you. Come on, we'll show you to the dining quarters."

"Commune living, Scully," Mulder whispered; Scully shook her head with a sigh as they trailed after Doggett and Reyes. When they approached the eatery, though, Mulder's stomach betrayed him with a grumble from the onslaught of delicious scents wafting toward them. "If there's meat other than seafood in there, I will take back my complaints about commune living."

Sure enough, there was - a selection of camp-raised pork had been specially butchered and prepared for Mulder, Scully, Doggett and Reyes' arrival, Canadian bacon and ham steaks accompanying stacks of fresh waffles and pancakes. "Oh my God," Scully whispered, blinking slowly.

Mulder and Scully were shaken from their food-induced reveries as Nick and Charlie approached. "Good morning," Nick said softly, his brown eyes bright. He gestured toward the waiting breakfast items. "Please, help yourselves. Cyrus had the team prepare some meat. He figured you'd appreciate some protein that didn't formerly swim."

"Where is Cyrus?" Mulder asked softly.

"God only knows," Nick replied with a laugh, confusing the four.

Charlie explained, "He's a bit of a loner. We're never sure where he ends up."

"How long does he go for?"

Nick shrugged. "A day or two, sometimes more."

"He just goes off by himself without warning?" Doggett asked, perplexed.

Nick eyed Doggett. "He's pretty self-sufficient," he defended. "We don't feel the need to babysit him or each other. Ninety percent of us here are Shields, so we can handle ourselves. The other ten percent … the humans … are usually too relieved to be safe and comfortable to worry about where Cyrus is every second of the day."

"Right, thanks," Mulder replied with a smile, sensing the building tension.

"Feel free to roam around," Charlie said, "but just don't go past the walls. If you do, we can't help you." With a small nod, Nick and Charlie turned and walked away.

"Well, that was strange," Reyes commented softly.

"You ain't kidding," Doggett mumbled.

"Why were they so defensive?" Scully asked.

Mulder shook his head. "I don't know," he whispered, looking to where Nick and Charlie left to. "But I have a feeling they know more than they're saying."

* * *

10:19 AM CST

His eyes scanned the perimeter from his vehicle with a knowing sigh, the phone he clutched in his hand weighing more than anything he ever held before in his life. The only thing that weighed heavier was the burden of his soul. It crushed him mercilessly and reprehensibly, tainting his entire being. The load he bore in the silence of his conscience became akin to a weakened human heart, the arteries of power and justice clogging with the tainted plaque of reality and fear.

There was but one process to be completed in the slow quietness he lingered in. One deed which his entire purpose now rested on, every hope and dream he had had for years now thinning out to a single, solitary action.

Much as he tried, he couldn't move forward. The ache, the sting of it all was too much to bear. It was inhumane. This wasn't how it was suppose to be.

Slowly, he looked down at the phone. Slowly, he found his fingers moving over numbers without comprehension or recognition of accountability. Slowly, he lifted it to his ear. Slowly, he breathed a shaky puff of air into his lungs. _Do what you must,_ he thought with bitter anger.

"It's Cyrus," he said quietly, hating the way his voice betrayed him. "Let's make the exchange."

* * *

Insurgence Camp  
11:13 AM CST

After eating more than they thought possible, Mulder found himself chomping at the bit to escape their new-found refuge, relieved at the fresh air that poured through the doorway as he stepped outside. "I was never much for organized living," he remarked as Scully followed him, each soaking in the rays of the hot Texas sun.

She had plenty to say regarding his comment, but left the air void of witty comebacks, choosing instead to absorb the complexity of the camp they had entered in the dark of night. "Wow, Mulder," Scully remarked. "This is pretty amazing."

They spent a long time exploring the vast complex. More buildings like the main one they were housed in, only smaller, were placed throughout the thick barrier walls of the fortress. In the center resided a rather large greenhouse, next to it smaller barn-like units with animals who produced milk, meat and eggs.

What caught Scully's attention was the vibrant children's playset dressed in primary colors sitting on top a thick layer of impossibly green sod. A long, rectangular building sat next to it, serving as what she guessed was a school. "Mulder," she said softly, hearing him some distance behind him, "how could Cyrus have possibly known the need for all of this?"

"His father, I would imagine," Mulder replied, his eyes fixed on the people milling about, enjoying their lives in peaceful contentment. "Is this what will really keep people safe though, Scully?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she questioned back. "We're surrounded by Shields … the Colonists can't track anyone inside of these walls."

"No, I mean … this," Mulder explained, gesturing to the people who seemed to be cut out of an advertisement for pristine living. "This overwhelming sense of … complacency. Is that the answer?"

"What's wrong with living life, Mulder?" Scully asked, feeling upset by his lack of appreciation of what Cyrus had created.

"There's nothing wrong with living life, Scully, but this isn't life. This … this is … managed existence."

"Oh, Mulder-"

"No, hear me out!" Mulder faced her, taking Scully's shoulders gently. "Scully, if this was such an ideal life, then where is Cyrus?" He paused, searching her eyes. "I mean, if this is what life is meant to be, then why isn't even the person who designed it happy?"

"Mulder, he's probably working on something, not … escaping."

"How do you know? Didn't you hear the way he spoke about the start of our 'new lives' last night? It was like he was bitter over everything this camp stands for."

Scully shook her head. "I can't believe this."

"What?" Mulder asked defensively.

"You, Mulder," Scully replied, her tone rising. "You were the one who wanted this so badly that we pushed tooth and nail just to get here, and now you're dying to get back to Colonists who want to kill us and newborn aliens who would slaughter us without a second thought!" He was about to interrupt her when she stopped him. "No, Mulder," she said sharply. "I can't do this. I can't keep doing this with you."

"Look, Scully - life wasn't meant to be lived behind magnetite walls, pretending the world isn't going to shit all around us. I think even Cyrus realizes that. Timothy English wanted people to be protected but all he did was kill their will to fight." Mulder saw Scully sigh, her eyes searching his. "As much as I know you appreciate boundaries and design, I hate to break it to you, but life was meant to be lived on _our_ terms, not someone else's and certainly not _theirs_."

"What can we possibly do, Mulder?" Scully asked. "We have no control over the terms anymore."

"What happened to fighting the future, Dana?" Mulder's voice wavered with passion. "This … all of this … this isn't fighting. This is a moronic defense."

"I want to fight, Mulder, but I don't know how to suggest we fight a virus that won't die," Scully argued. "Or how to eliminate men that won't die without the proper resources, or men that seemingly won't die at all. A world order is forming that no one will soon have power over. What is it that you think we can do?"

"More than sit around reading the Sunday paper."

Before she could stop him, he brushed past her, his anger leading and fueling him. She closed her eyes in defeat, knowing in her heart that while he was right, she was also correct. Without the power of William, Cara and the children, the compound was all that could preserve them long enough to gain resources to battle. Yet, Mulder had assumed she would be joining the unquestioning people her eyes now fell on, which was far from the truth. She would fight alongside him, as she had always done. Was he scared that she would forget the purpose they held each other accountable to?

Her eyes fell on the families within the complex, all appearing without care or concern for the monsters that hovered outside of the stone barrier around them. She feared that without her son, all they, too, could do was hurry up and wait for their individual end to come while they lived in pretend ignorance, quietly complying, silently surrendering.

* * *

9:34 AM AKST

Will woke with a sudden urgency that left his skin freckled with gooseflesh. His heart lodged in his throat as he lay frozen, gripping onto his sleeping wife defensively. Immediately, he glanced to the bed, feeling only momentarily relieved to see his small children nestled together in peaceful slumber. He focused, his energy channeled to his hearing as he tried to take in anything that would clue him in as to why he felt the way he currently did. He heard nothing, but something still wasn't right. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

"Cara," he whispered, his eyes locked on the door in front of him that was without security. He felt her stir in his arms, and he sat up, still cradling her to his chest. "Cara, wake up."

"Will?" Cara murmured, opening her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," he breathed. The intensity of his eyes frightened Cara immediately, her fingers automatically gripping his shirt even tighter than they had been. She had come to know better than to question Will's premonitions, being as they were nearly always accurate. Judging from the worry in his eyes, she knew that this particular feeling stirring inside of him was anything but a false alarm.

Moistening his lips, Will kept his eyes on the door. "Stay here with the kids," he said softly, beginning to pull away from her.

"Where are you going?" Cara asked quickly, stopping him.

"I need to go see what is happening above us," Will replied. "There's something going on up there." He tried to release her from his body.

"No!" Cara protested, latching tighter onto him. "No, Will. You can't go alone."

"I need to go see-"

"Will, what if it's the Censure's army? Then what?"

"Then I take them out."

"No!"

"Cara, stay here," Will said firmly, standing as she loosened her grip. "Put the chair under the knob when I'm gone." He quickly moved to the corner of the room and fished around in his bag, producing his gun. "Take this."

"Will-"

"Take it, Cara." Will pressed the weapon into her hands.

"This is a mistake, Will," Cara whispered, searching his eyes. "Don't … don't give them what they want."

"What are you talking about?" Will asked, confused.

"If it is them up there, then they want us separated. They want you vulnerable."

"How do I know that they haven't taken over the ship and turned us around, or worse, sabotaged it?" Will cupped Cara's face with his hands. "I'll be back, alright? I promise you."

"Please don't promise me that," she whispered. The tears were so close to release that they stung as she held them back.

"Cara," Will breathed, kissing her forehead with loving care, "I love you."

"Please, Will," she begged, her lip quivering. "Please stay."

He dipped his head, kissing her fervidly, remembering the many times he had tasted her full, butter-soft mouth before tragedy struck. She was right, but he couldn't sit idly by and wait for their lives to be determined for them. He wanted nothing more than to see them safely to his parents, and he would do whatever necessary to achieve it.

He parted first from the kiss with reluctance, seeing her cheeks were moist with tears, the sparkle in her eyes fading from fear. "Please stay," she shuddered, clutching him. "Please don't play their game."

Will's heart was being severed viciously as he took in Cara's desperation. He hated where he was, stuck in the middle between what felt right and what was unknown, either proving to be the real right or the very devastation of all he possessed.

The unmistakable tinny echo of shots fired above them struck him in his battered soul. Her lips that he had so tenderly tasted a moment before parted as she gazed up at him in utter panic and despair. Before she could speak, another gunshot rang out and the urging pull of benevolence claimed its victim, Will's warmth no longer against her as it followed him toward the door.


	7. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Cara watched breathlessly as Will grabbed the folding chair, shoving it under the knob of the shut door in front of them, pausing to listen to what was happening. The silence rattled him more than the shots fired. He turned back to Cara, realizing she thought he was going to leave and took the gun from her hand. "Wake up the kids," he whispered. She hesitated, stunned by his out of character choice to remain with her, her breath shallow as she processed his direction.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she gently shook Max and Emma awake. "Wake up," she whispered, knowing Max immediately read her fears though they were evident on her face.

"What's wrong, Mommy?" Emma asked.

"Why are they shooting?" Max questioned, unable to avoid his mother's mind.

"I don't know," Cara whispered, pulling them both into her lap securely. She glanced at Will, who remained focused on the door, his gun in hand as he backed toward the bed, sheltering the three people behind him.

"Mommy! I'm scared!" Emma quivered, tears dripping through her fair lashes.

"Shhh," Cara urged, knowing she wasn't very convincing as she smoothed Emma's curls. "It'll be alright, baby."

"Max," Will said without turning toward his son, "what can you hear?"

The boy was silent for a long moment. "They want to know everyone who is on the boat," Max whispered.

"Why?"

"They're looking for you, Daddy."

Will closed his eyes against his son's words. "How many people are there, Max?"

"Lots."

"Can you count them?"

Another pause. "I think five, Daddy."

"Five," Will murmured. "Alright Max, listen to me very carefully. Whatever you do, do NOT use your power."

"But Daddy-"

"No, Max," Will said firmly, turning to look at his son. "No powers."

With a quick glance toward the door, Will swept down and pressed several kisses on both Emma's and Max's heads, feeling the tiny children shake in fear. With his free hand, he cupped Cara's cheek, capturing her lips into his as she kept her arms around the twins. They united in tender urgency, frightened desire fueling their intimacy. He parted unwillingly, showering her face with more tiny kisses before turning back to the door, his left arm sweeping out to cover his family behind him. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes, praying his ability to stop time would be possible. It was the only advantage he had.

Cara jumped when she heard the door to the third level slam in the distance, gripping the twins even more securely, their small hearts racing against her own frenzied pulse. "Shh," Will mouthed, raising his finger to his lips briefly before lowering his arm to its protective position, his gun aimed with expertise at the door. "Cover your ears," Cara whispered to her children, seeing their little hands move quickly to the sides of their heads.

They began to hear footsteps approach; Cara's heart froze. She fought the quiver that threatened to run up her spine, the terror begging for control. Her lips sought the twins' heads, kissing them as she clutched their bodies in her lap, they each curled to her like infants instead of preschoolers. She pressed their faces to her breast, hoping to shelter their innocent eyes from the massacre Will was bent on starting should the replacements try to harm them.

The footsteps stopped; they were close, but Will couldn't tell how close. "Shit," they heard one yell.

"There's magnetite down here!" another said.

"I thought this was a passenger vessel!" yet another exclaimed.

"Damn!" the first one cursed in pain. "They must have some in the cargo hold in the iron, like the last boat."

The footsteps approached again, but this time stopping abruptly and accompanied by shouts of agony. "Shit! Come on!" the first one yelled. "Let's get out of here!"

Will's lips parted in shock as he heard the footsteps disappear, the door slamming shut behind the men who left. The four dared not to move or speak, too frightened for it to be a trick that would wind up exposing themselves. It was nearly fifteen minutes later when Will heard the distinct roar of the engine come to life, the jerk of the boat proceeding forward rocking him as he stood. As he braced himself against the powerful surge, Will realized the reason he woke up initially was that the engine had been turned off. Whoever boarded their vessel was now either gone or at the helm.

Carefully, Will sank down onto the bed, touching Max's hands and lowering them from his ears. "They're gone, Daddy," Max whispered, seeing Will move Emma's hands from her ears.

"Are you sure?" Will breathed. Max nodded. He kissed his son, then his daughter in overwhelming relief. His eyes shifted to Cara; her skin was pale and her eyes glassy. "Hey," he whispered, his knuckles gliding over her cheek. Cara barely moved. Will tucked the gun in his waistband, gently pulling Cara up from the mattress. The twins clutched onto her as she hoisted them both in her arms. Will sat down on the bed, his back jammed into the corner and he guided Cara to lay between his legs, each of the children coming to rest on either side of him. Will drew his family close; the twins nudged into his large arms, finding peace in their father's embrace. Will pressed a kiss on Cara's head as it rested against his chest, she curled to him in the small space between his thighs.

The silence lingered for longer than he realized, Will coming to find that the children had fallen back asleep from exhaustion over the traumatic experience before. He knew Cara was still awake, her eyes focused on the material of his shirt as she pressed her cheek to his heart. "Hey," he whispered, gaining her attention. He wanted to smile at her, but he couldn't find control of the muscles to make it possible.

"You stayed," she breathed. It was a revelation, an expression of surprise.

"Yes."

"I thought …"

"I was going to leave, until you told me that I shouldn't play their game." Will sighed, nuzzling Cara's hair with his nose. "You were right."

"Will, how can there be magnetite so close to you? You haven't been in pain."

"I don't think it was magnetite that stopped them," Will murmured.

"Then what?"

"I think it was Max."

Cara's lips parted gently. "Max?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"But … how?"

Will sighed. "I don't really know, but I remember the bounty hunter being weakened the instant he was born, or so I later pieced together. I think our son embodies the strength of our enemies' weaknesses. Maybe in times of fear, he emits it."

"He didn't even … do … anything."

"I know."

"Do you think people are hurt up there?"

"I don't know, but I have to see what's going on to make sure we're still on course."

"Then we all go. We'll wake the kids and see."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Will asked.

"We can't be separated, Will," Cara replied. "We're stronger together, just like we'll be even stronger with your parents."

Cara's breath was shaky against Will's chest. His hands were occupied, so Will moved his mouth along the top of Cara's face, urging her to lift her head and meet him. When she did, he instantly consumed her alluringly full bottom lip; the kiss was as raw and exposed as he had felt while he traced the gun on the door only a short time before. They parted slowly and clung to each other in horrified repose.

"If I had gone when …" Will began, his words nearly filling Cara's mouth from the intimate distance they maintained.

"Shh-"

"They would have killed us. You. Max. Emma. Me."

"But you stayed."

"I stayed because you broke my heart. Not because I was smart enough to know better than to become a victim to their trap."

She shifted in his lap, her hands caressing his distraught face. "You stayed, Will," she repeated softly, her lips brushing over his as she spoke. "That's what matters now."

Yet, in his heart, he couldn't let go of the potential failure. He hated himself for almost exposing his family to be killed. He couldn't forgive himself for his lack of belief, knowing it was just that which had put them all at danger to begin with.

* * *

11:01 AM AKST

He hated that they were with him as he carefully climbed the stairs to the main level of the ship, but Will knew Cara was right when she said they were stronger together. Max had assured his father that there weren't any replacements still on board. Will tried to trust fully in his son's ability, but was finding it difficult to hand over his entire family's security on the word of a child.

Will felt an overwhelming flood of relief when he saw Michael, the man he had become friendly with from the logging site he worked at, accompanied by someone he assumed to be Michael's wife, Sasha. "Emma, Max," he whispered to his children, "this man in front of us calls Daddy Jack at work, alright? So don't say anything when he does." Will turned back to Michael. "Michael," Will called out, gaining the shorter man's attention. Michael, clutching Sasha's hand, walked over to Will, Cara hovering a distance behind him with Max and Emma at her sides.

"Jack!" Michael said with a relieved sigh, meeting Will halfway as Sasha lingered back like Cara. "Glad you were able to make it on the ship."

Will nodded and smiled. He used the alias of Jack Hale, which always went unquestioned at his jobs due to the less than professional bookkeeping of the sites he worked. "What happened up here earlier?" Will asked.

"Censure," Michael explained. "Checking passenger manifests."

"Who are they looking for?" Will asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Some guy named William Mulder. They said he was an escaped convict."

Will swallowed. "Did they show a picture?"

Michael shook his head. "No, which is weird. I mean … if I was an escaped convict, I doubt I'd be using my real name, right?" Michael laughed. "Guess they knew who they were looking for and just didn't see him."

"Yeah," Will murmured. "So why did they fire rounds?"

"From what we heard, it was just to get people's attention."

"So no one is hurt?"

Michael shook his head. "No, but I tell you what, I'm laying low until we get to Cali. Damn Censure can just stop a ship dead in the water whenever they want for whatever they want. Can't wait to get underground."

"Underground?" Will asked, curious.

"You haven't heard?" Michael was stunned at Will's lack of knowledge.

"Heard of what?"

"Rebel groups, man. They're popping up everywhere. Most of them are destroyed by the Censure, though. Best one is in Texas, so the story goes. It's called The Insurgence. It's hell trying to find it. Supposedly they find you if they want you in. Otherwise, you'll never get inside. The Censure doesn't even know about it." Michael sighed. "I figured it's worth a shot. It's not like we've got many other options."

"Do you have a contact for The Insurgence?"

"Yeah, but I haven't heard from him in months. Just checked my email this morning too. Still nothing. I can write down his email if you'd like."

"That'd be great. Thanks. Where is there a computer on board?"

"Near the dining commons. You've got to put your name on a list for time on it, but hell … we have a few days here anyway. I got lucky and was one of the first for today's list. You get three ten minute intervals during the cruise."

Will nodded. "Where's the list?"

"Right outside the restrooms on this level," Michael replied.

* * *

While Cara and the children ate the food offered by the tiny dining commons on the ship that was still deemed safe, Will investigated the list Michael spoke of, scribbling his alias name onto the chart in three spaces with a sigh. He would have to wait until eleven thirty PM in order to use the computer for the first time today, and then ten twenty PM the following night for the second time, followed by six AM two days later, the last day of the cruise. He had caught a glimpse of the line that formed behind the person currently at the device as he had initially made his way to the list, knowing no one would be willing or generous enough to swap slots with him. The Insurgence, as well as his email to his father, would have to wait.

As Will made his way back to Cara and the children, he pondered on what The Insurgence could have been like. A war-torn rag-tag group of men and women fed up with the oppression of the Colonists? An organized army somehow undetected by the aliens who saw and heard everything? How could they go unseen, though? Even he in all his power was still traceable if not for Cara.

_Shields,_ he thought with a sudden realization. _The Insurgence must be run by Shields._

* * *

Insurgence Camp  
Corpus Christi, TX  
8:57 PM CST

Mulder sat on the cooling ground, pitching stones that he found near his feet as he eyed the building Cyrus lived in from a covered distance. Since that afternoon, he had taken up to conducting his own stakeout, his curiosity getting the best of him regarding the young man's strange disappearance.

The door behind him opened softly, and he knew without even looking who it was. "Before you say anything, allow me just to say that I will remain right here until I get some solid answers," he said, another pebble slipping from his fingers into the distance.

"What answers are you looking for, Mulder?" Scully asked with a sigh, her hands finding her hips as she looked down at him.

"We need to trust him, right?" Mulder said. "So I want to know where he went."

"Mulder, it could be very personal where he went! I mean, you're assuming he was doing something malicious or behaving dishonestly when you have absolutely no proof of that."

"When have you ever heard of a leader of anything just disappearing, Scully? For no explained reason?"

"You've done it plenty of times with the X-Files."

Mulder turned, eying her. "That's not the same."

"And how do you know?" Scully asked.

"Because … it just isn't."

Scully took a deep breath, releasing it with a loud puff. "Mulder," she paused, exacerbated by the man in front of her, "your son, your daughter in law and your grandchildren are out there. God knows what is going on around them, or where they even are, or how they're even doing. Yet instead, you pour your energy into staking out a man who has given you absolutely no reason to distrust him!"

"I just want to know what he knows, Scully," Mulder murmured, his eyes fixed back on the building. "Whatever he knows will only help us to find William."

He didn't see how she shook her head in annoyance and disgust, but he did hear how the door slammed behind him, wincing at the loud collision as he shut his eyes. _Maybe she has a point,_ he thought idly, rubbing his temples.

* * *

Another forty minutes would pass before he could see the bright beams of light approach, a sleek black SUV's doors opening after the engine was killed. Mulder perked up, his lips pursing as he focused on the tall figure who exited the car quickly, shutting the door with a careful touch to avoid any attention-bringing noise.

Standing from his covered position, he started after the figure, catching the back of his head in the slivers of light filtering through from still-lit windows nearby. He knew it was him from the way the light caught his sandy brown hair.

"Cyrus."

_FBI agents, _Cyrus thought ruefully as he froze outside of the building he lived in. _I brought in bloody FBI agents. The damn Yank is suspicious of everything. _ "'Ello, Fox," Cyrus greeted, turning to face Mulder with a practiced smile.

"I prefer Mulder," Mulder corrected.

"Alright, then. Mulder. What can I do for you?"

Even in the dimness of the setting sun, Mulder could make out the welts on Cyrus' face clearly, the marks he sported accompanying the faint sense of ache he saw Cyrus try to hide. "What happened to you?" Mulder asked, stepping closer.

"Just a scuffle with a bloke in town trying to rob me," Cyrus said with a throwaway laugh. "Not uncommon for outside these walls."

"What were you doing in town?"

Cyrus smiled against Mulder's question. "Aren't you the curious one."

"Why would you need to go into town?" Mulder asked.

"You think all this grows on trees, mate?" Cyrus asked. "This whole bloody operation didn't just raise from the ground like the Garden of Eden."

"If it's so dangerous, why go by yourself?"

"Guess I like flying the coop every now and then."

"Or is it because there's something you'd rather not share with anyone?"

Cyrus laughed. "That's probably why your mother called you Fox," he smirked. "Just can't let the rabbit alone in its hole 'til morning, can you?"

"I just feel like something's being left out."

Cyrus' eyes were piercing as they examined Mulder's. "Nothing else to tell, mate," he said cooly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've been looking forward to nursing a bottle since I got my new face decorations."

Cyrus turned to leave, stopping with annoyance when Mulder grabbed his left arm. "I want to trust you," Mulder said, closing the distance between him and Cyrus. "But you're not making it easy."

"I suggest you let go, mate," Cyrus warned softly, not turning to face Mulder. He swallowed back a wince at Mulder's unknowing assault. "I don't usually take a liking to Yanks grabbing at me while calling me a liar."

Mulder considered pushing one step further, not sure if it would become fruitful or become a fatal leap into a point of no return. With only a moment's hesitation, he chose. "We need your help finding William," Mulder explained softly, letting go of Cyrus' arm. "I just want my son and his family safe."

"Well you're in luck then, Mulder," Cyrus replied gently as he looked directly into his eyes. "That's what I want, too." Cyrus slipped inside of his building, Mulder watching with disappointment. Now, he had more questions and no answers whatsoever for the questions he already had before.

* * *

Discretely from a window in the building, Cyrus watched Mulder walk back across the quad, the light from the hall illuminating his dark, shadowed bruises and a gouge above his right eye. With a swallowed wince, he finished climbing the stairs into his apartment, clicking the door shut behind him.

Cyrus tossed his car keys on the table in the living room, tearing off his leather jacket in anger, exposing the wound on his left bicep. "Bloody hell," he mumbled, clutching his arm that began bleeding through the poorly wrapped bandages as he made his way to the bathroom.

Stripping his shirt, he examined his arm as he ran the water in the sink, peeling back soaked medical wrapping he managed to steal from a vacant hospital he broke into. He tried to coat his throat with saliva, feeling it perpetually dry as a wave of nausea hit him. "Shit," he muttered, seeing the telltale streaks under his skin radiating from the wound. _An infection. This can't be happening right now. How in the hell am I going to hide this from the feds? _

The knock on his door startled him. He had purposely left the lights off in his suite, not figuring anyone would choose to bother him because of that and the time of night it was. As quickly as he could, he re-wrapped his arm, tearing the fresh medical tape with his teeth as he rushed into the living room, slipping on his shirt and jacket to conceal his arm. The knock grew louder and more urgent, which worried him. "Just a moment," he muttered. "Who in the bloody hell is it anyway?"

"It's Tad," Tad said outside of the door.

"Yeah, what is it?" Cyrus asked, only cracking the door open partially as he answered it.

"Cyrus …" Tad's brow wrinkled at Cyrus' physical condition. "What happened to you?"

"Just a scuffle," Cyrus explained, brushing off Tad's concern. "What did you need?"

"Who'd you get in a fight with?"

Cyrus was becoming agitated. "Look, if you came here for something, I'd love to get to it so I can catch a bit of sleep, alright?"

Tad sighed. He knew how private Cyrus was about certain things, so he knew better than to push him. "Well …"

"What? Spit it out, Tad."

"Someone's taken three vials of the vaccine from medical storage," Tad said softly. Since Tad was a nurse when he was relocated to the camp, he became responsible for overseeing the medical unit, including supplies and inventory. "I noticed them missing in the inventory tonight."

_Shit, _Cyrus immediately thought. _Of course Tad would notice. You're an idiot, Cyrus. _Cyrus nodded grimly. "Any idea as to who?" he asked, masking his guilt well.

"No," Tad replied. "It could've been the feds somehow, though."

"For God's sake, Tad," Cyrus scolded, not wanting Mulder, Scully, Doggett or Reyes to be blamed for the theft, "do you honestly think they broke into the medical supplies? And why would they still be knocking 'round here if they did?"

"Well then who else?"

_Tad can't know I'm to blame. Leadership is my only advantage now to find Caraline. Pin it on Charlie. The sonofabitch loathes me. He's probably plotting to kill me in my sleep._ "It had to be someone with access."

"That leaves me, Nick, Charlie and …"

"And me." Cyrus' brow wrinkled. "Well I sure as hell didn't take 'em."

"Me either."

"So it leaves Nick and Charlie."

"Nick was with the feds for part of the morning, then working his shift in the garden."

"What about Charlie?"

"Dunno."

"Alright," Cyrus said quietly, "keep it to yourself, yeah? Just until morning. We'll sort it out then. In the meantime, fetch a course of antivirals for me, would ya?"

Tad's brow raised. "Antivirals?"

"Yeah," Cyrus nodded. "We'll say they went missing too, try and flush out whoever took 'em."

Tad nodded slowly. "Alright."

"Thanks, mate. Just give me a quick knock when you've got 'em, then you can be back to your job."

Cyrus watched Tad disappear toward the infirmary, shutting his eyes in relief as he closed the door and shed his leather jacket once again in the living room. The ache of the burden he carried flared in his mind, accompanying the burning of his infected arm. He tried to swallow back his defeat and guilt, but couldn't. He had failed. He had failed miserably.

Perhaps it hurt so much because it was the first time he had actually failed whenever he set out to make exchanges with his contacts. Up until that night, he had a flawless record of retrieval. His methods were unorthodox, but so was the world they now lived in. He obtained the information and goods he wanted by any means necessary. Normally, the stakes were lower than they had been today, however.

He despised the ranking of the value of life he was coerced into doing, placing one person above or below the next. He hated viewing people as commodities instead of as living, breathing, feeling individual entities. The security of the camp he created demanded it, though - a camp which he loathed, its concept one he was opposed to with every fiber of his being.

The secret, safe society was his father's wish, not his. Building the camp was the last thing his father had talked to him of in almost three years. Desperate for the man's approval and with unexplainable and unfounded loyalty to his father's ideals, he built the camp. Timothy had guilted Cyrus into managing the Shields he created, the purpose of their manifestation being something which Cyrus resented every waking moment of his life. Timothy never saw the Shields he made as people or as protecting human life during the inevitable invasion. No, his father was far more callous than that. Shields were simply a means to an end, lab rats meant to procreate until the balance of power was upset. Cyrus knew Timothy had painted a lovely picture of the preservation of mankind through Shields, but the truth was that each Shield created with the resistance to Purity was no more than an incubator for the next until a war could begin.

Because of his personal commitment to protecting the Shields and treating them with as much dignity as he could muster, Cyrus took whatever steps necessary to ensure he could provide a secure haven for his sister and the others. How else could he safeguard the people who followed him as a leader if not by making the choices they refused to make because of comfortable complacency?

He knew the real reason for his utter despair, though - what Cyrus was to exchange the vials of the vaccine for was worth everything he had, including his own life. Yet, he was tricked, fooled into thinking he would possess the critical ship manifest information he so desperately sought in exchange for three of the precious, life-giving vials of vaccine he had smuggled into the camp to protect the people who relied on him. He tried to fight the two men who took the vials from him, but only wound up bloodied, beaten and bruised, now infected from the dirty hunting blade that had ripped through his arm as he fought to take back the vaccine when he realized he had been had.

Cyrus had become frantic the instant he saw that Caraline wasn't with William's family when he found them the night before. He knew his sister would be smart and remain on the coast, but the coasts of the entire world were too much for a single man with limited resources to cover alone. Knowing this, he became convinced that there was no line to be drawn for what he would do to protect his sister, and now his niece and nephew. He supposed bitterly that William was to be lumped into that concern, but his singular focus was his blood. Saving his family was all that mattered. He would sell anything, give anything, take anything to ensure he had a chance to find his sister and the children before he was too late, before the bastard Colonists got to them first.

In anger, he grabbed an empty glass that had been sitting on his coffee table, his uninjured arm pitching it forward onto the wall, watching it burst into tiny shards, broken glass raining down on the carpet. There were now only ten bottles left of the vaccine in locked storage, but nearly six times as many people living inside the walls he built for their protection. Part of him felt sick for lying straight-faced to Tad, a young man who was always so honest with him and so trusting of his guidance for the camp. Blaming Charlie wasn't something he did lightly; Cyrus reminded himself, though, of Charlie's resentment he had displayed numerous times toward him for his position. Framing Charlie for taking the vaccine wasn't damaging because Cyrus served as both judge and jury of the society they lived in. He would strip Charlie of his privileges for a bit for show until the whole thing blew over. Charlie would be angry, and rightfully so, but the secret was far more important than Charlie's feelings. If word got out that Cyrus had been bartering with sources for his own personal reasons using vials of the vaccine as currency, there would most certainly be a mutiny.

Cyrus didn't know how long he stood in his darkened apartment for, staring at the wall in front of him, his arm throbbing with intensity. The soft rap on the door gave him relief, but he waited to retrieve the antivirals Tad had willingly taken for him until he was sure Tad had gone. Examining his deep wound, Cyrus made his way to the door, opening it gently. The hallway seemed empty, the small bag of antivirals waiting in front of his feet. Cyrus stooped down to pick up the bag, freezing in his crouched position when he heard a gun being cocked.

"Gotcha."


	8. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

He didn't need to look up to know who was aiming at him. It was clear to Cyrus who was threatening him just from the voice. Cyrus felt the smoothness of the bag of medicine under his fingers as he remained low to the ground, running through his options in the silence of his mind. "Stand," the gunman ordered. Gripping the bag, Cyrus slowly stood, eying the man in front of him who kept his aim squarely on his chest.

"Charlie, what are you doing?" Cyrus said quietly, eying the man in front of him.

Charlie laughed. "You think I'm not on to you, huh?" he sneered; his voice lowered as he stepped closer. "I've been watching you for a while now, Cyrus."

Cyrus smirked. "And what is it you think you've seen, exactly?"

"Don't take me for an idiot, Cyrus," Charlie warned angrily. "Your charm may work on others, but it doesn't work on me. Now, back up and get inside."

Slowly, Cyrus backed himself into his apartment, still clutching the bag of antivirals. "What do you want, Charlie?" Cyrus asked. "Would you like an explanation or would you rather draw your own idiotic conclusions?"

"I don't want to hear your lies, Cyrus," Charlie replied, shutting the apartment door. "Now, put the bag down nice and slow."

"Charlie-"

"Put it down."

With an angry sigh, Cyrus set the bag of antivirals down on the coffee table he was near. "Who have you been dealing with?" Charlie asked.

"I can explain-"

"Who?" Charlie yelled, lifting the gun a little higher.

"Contacts of mine," Cyrus admitted with a grimace.

"And what have you been giving them?"

"Useless information, for the most part. Common knowledge tidbits."

"Oh yeah?" Charlie said softly. "Is that why there are vials of the vaccine missing?"

"There are?" Cyrus asked, pretending to be baffled.

"Cut the crap, Cyrus," Charlie snapped. "I know you took them." He stepped closer. "Now I want to know why you gave them up and what you got in exchange for them."

"I actually don't think that's any of your business, mate," Cyrus replied darkly. "After all, I'm at the helm 'round here."

"Are you?" Charlie laughed. "Looks like to me you're at the end of a gun barrel."

"I have my reasons, Charlie. Let that be good enough for you."

"It's your sister, isn't it?" Charlie asked, shaking his head when Cyrus didn't respond. "You gave the vaccine away … well where is she?" Cyrus chewed on his cheek, the rage rising inside of him as he listened to Charlie. "Or didn't you find her yet? Maybe … maybe you've been working with the Colonists all along, huh?"

"Don't be an arse, Charlie-"

"Is she worth it?" Charlie asked. "Is she worth dying for? Because you're about to, Cyrus. You're about to die for a woman who doesn't even know you exist." Charlie's laugh chilled Cyrus. "Pathetic. You're a great actor, Cyrus. A great showman. But you know what it all really comes down to for you?" Charlie paused. "You're afraid," he nearly whispered. "You're afraid of being alone." He laughed again. "You're just a little boy who never got his father's approval, trying to make up for it still after all these years. The same father who tossed you aside because you weren't good enough, right Cyrus? Haven't heard from him in years, have you, Cyrus? So now you're desperate. You're desperate to win your old man's love through making his vision a reality. Only now that it hasn't seemed to work, you're too afraid of being alone in the world."

"Cut the psychology bullshit and just pull the damn trigger if it's what you came to do," Cyrus yelled, seething in rage.

"I plan on it," Charlie replied. "But first … I want everyone to know how you've risked their lives and safety for a fruitless personal quest. I want everyone to know how you've lied to, stolen from and cheated the people you swore to protect." Charlie grabbed Cyrus' injured arm, smiling. "I want everyone to know who the real Cyrus English is."

* * *

"So, did you find your answers, Mulder?" Scully asked quietly as she sat on the king sized bed when Mulder closed the suite door gently.

"No," he murmured with a sigh, kicking his shoes off.

Scully turned to him, eying him carefully. "Mulder … I'm not planning on hiding behind these walls," she said assuringly, seeing him meet her eyes. "Our son is out there. His wife and his children - our grandchildren - are out there. I won't rest even after we find them. I want justice as much as you do. I just think that you're looking for things here that don't exist, that don't benefit the goal we're both after."

"You mean with Cyrus?" Mulder asked, sinking down onto the bed. Scully nodded. "Well, what if I told you I now think he's full of shit?" He heard Scully's sigh. "No, hear me out. I talked to him. He went into town, he said, and was nearly robbed. Scully, the guy took me by surprise when he first captured us. I'm a trained agent and I never saw him coming. How could he be so badly beaten in a fight?"

"Maybe they were replacements?" Scully suggested, thinking it was the obvious conclusion.

"I thought about that," Mulder agreed. "But they would've known Cyrus was a Shield when they couldn't read his mind. They wouldn't have let him live."

"So what are you saying, Mulder?"

"I'm saying that Cyrus is telling the truth, that he did go into town and he was nearly, or maybe even fully robbed. But I think the stakes were much higher than mere cash or goods for the camp."

Scully's eyebrow arched. "Like what?"

"Information," Mulder concluded. "Cyrus was in contact with Nightwatcher, a person who dealt in the buying and selling of top secret and confidential information. What's to say he's not still doing the same thing with other contacts? What if he was trying to sell some information behind everyone's backs?"

"What would he sell, though?"

"Our arrival."

Scully exhaled deeply. "You really think he'd snitch on us? Why? What would the purpose be?"

"I don't know. Maybe immunity from the Colonists?"

Scully frowned. "Do you think he'd honestly be dealing with the Colonists in secret?"

A loud siren cut through their conversation, sounding like a fire alarm. "What is that?" Scully asked, confused as she climbed out of bed, grateful she still had her clothes on. Mulder shook his head.

"A fire alarm?" he suggested, not even confident in his assumption from the distinct sound of the alarm.

A knock on the door startled them even further. "Fox, Dana," they heard Nick say from the other side. Mulder opened the door, looking at the young man in confusion. "That's an urgency siren," Nick explained. "It lets everyone know there's important information to be shared. Come on, follow me."

"Where is the information shared?" Mulder asked incredulously.

"Usually in the dining commons, but they're out in the quad now," Nick said quickly.

"Outside?" Scully's voice was doubtful of the arrangement.

"Yes," Nick replied hastily. "Come on."

Quickly putting on their shoes, Mulder and Scully followed Nick down the stairs and out through the same door they took earlier to the grassy area of the compound, joining the herd of people filtering from all directions as the siren rang. Within minutes of their arrival, the siren was stopped. People of all ages and races were gathered in a circle around two central figures which Mulder had a hard time seeing from the thick barrier of onlookers who arrived to the center of the quad first.

"This feels a little medieval, doesn't it?" Scully whispered to Mulder.

"More than a little," Mulder mumbled.

"I'll keep it short and sweet," Mulder and Scully heard Charlie say, their eyes widening when they realized Charlie had a gun as well as what seemed like a hostage, though from their viewpoint they couldn't tell who it was. "Each of you ought to know the truth about who you've allowed to be in charge here." Mulder made a impulsive decision and pushed through the crowd to get closer after catching what he concluded was a glimpse of Cyrus in Charlie's grasp. Scully watched him with an open mouth, feeling immobile in her confusion over the chaos that was unfolding. "This man, this man we've entrusted our lives to … he has lied to all of us. Stolen from all of us." Mulder paused once he reached the inside edge of the circle, seeing Charlie shove the gun into the side of Cyrus' head. "This man has nothing more than his own personal interests in mind. He doesn't care about anyone but himself."

"It's not the truth," Cyrus yelled with a scowl, pulling against Charlie. He groaned when Charlie knocked him across the face with his gun. "You bloody wanker," Cyrus growled, crying out in pain as Charlie kicked him in his back, causing him to crash down to the ground onto his knees. Charlie gripped Cyrus' hair and yanked his head backward as he pressed the gun to his temple.

"Hey!" Mulder yelled, starting after Charlie. He was immediately stopped by several large men he hadn't met, each gripping onto Mulder to restrain him. "Let him talk!" Mulder said, wrestling against them.

"He'll get his chance," Charlie replied, glaring at Mulder. "But first, everyone needs to know his crime."

"What the hell is this?" Mulder snapped. "Guerilla justice? A kangaroo court?"

"I suggest you keep quiet unless you'd like to join him," Charlie warned. "After all," he continued, looking back down at Cyrus, "this is the system this man set up. He's now being tried by his own law."

"I never made things this way, you arse," Cyrus snapped. "You muddied the waters a long time ago with your selfish desire for power." Cyrus moaned from another blow to his face, Mulder watching in rage. "I swear on my mother's grave, I'll kill you, you tosser!" Cyrus yelled, now being gripped by two more men.

"I'm selfish?" Charlie asked in mock astonishment. "How about they judge which of us is the selfish one?" He looked out into the crowd. "Cyrus took three precious vials of the only vaccine we have against the Colonists who are trying to kill us to use in a personal exchange … one which I might add had no return benefit for anyone here other than Cyrus." Hushed whispers rose over the crowd as Charlie spoke, Doggett and Reyes now finding Scully, who was being blocked from entering toward Mulder by two large men who kept her at bay.

"What the hell is going on?" Doggett asked.

"They've got Cyrus up there," Scully explained. "They're accusing him of theft."

"Who is?" Reyes asked.

"Charlie."

"What?" Doggett was shocked. "Those guys all seemed like brothers."

"I guess not," Scully murmured. They turned back to the action when they heard Cyrus speak.

"I took the vaccine to exchange for information regarding my sister, yes," Cyrus yelled. "But there is a benefit for everyone to have my sister's presence here in the camp. She's the strongest one of us Shields. She's the only one of us who has an advantage over the Colonists besides hiding."

More hushed whispers rose from the crowd. "But tell them, Cyrus," Charlie ordered, jamming the gun deeper against Cyrus' head. "Tell them how successful you were."

"Fuck off," Cyrus sneered.

"He failed," Charlie yelled to the crowd. "Instead, he was duped by contacts that aren't legitimate. He gave away the vaccine that will potentially save thirty human lives should the lesser of us Shields and the others without such an advantage be exposed." The crowd's murmurings grew louder, Mulder still fighting against the grip of the men who held him. Charlie continued, "And it's not the first time he's risked all of our lives for his own personal gain. Now information about us has been exposed and God only knows to who. He's put each and every one of you at risk!"

The volume of the crowd increased with Charlie's accusations and Scully's eyes widened in horrific realization. "They'll kill him right here and now," Scully murmured to Doggett and Reyes.

"We can't let them do that," Reyes breathed. "Cyrus is Cara's only family member left."

"What if Charlie is right?" Doggett asked, seeing how Reyes' head snapped in his direction. "Look, he admitted to going behind the people's backs."

"Yes, but for good cause!" Reyes defended.

"Still, how do we know we can trust him?"

Reyes looked back at the wounded and battered Cyrus being held by Charlie. "We can," she said softly. "I think we can."

"You trust him?" Doggett asked.

"Yes, I do."

"What about you, Dana?" Doggett asked.

Scully swallowed. "I want to trust him. I think his heart was in the right place." Truthfully, Scully ached for Cyrus in that moment, Cyrus reminding her so much of her son who had made misguided choices in response to overwhelming impulses of his heart.

Doggett inhaled deeply, guiding both Reyes and Scully away from the crowd. "We're outnumbered," he pointed out.

"We need to do something! I highly doubt whatever sentence he receives will be made justly," Reyes insisted.

Licking his lips, Doggett replied, "Alright. Dana, Monica, go grab your things quickly and get to one of the SUVs. They keep the keys in the office near the dining commons."

"Wait, how do you know?" Scully whispered.

"I saw them put them there last night when we got here." Doggett glanced over to where he saw Mulder still being held, then to Charlie, who was still talking to the crowd regarding Cyrus' misdeeds. "Just get the stuff and get down to a car and wait for us there."

"We're leaving?" Reyes asked.

"I don't think we have a choice at this point," Doggett replied.

With a small nod, Scully and Reyes slipped away from Doggett, who then carefully wove through the crowd toward Mulder out of sight of anyone who might want to stop him. He caught Mulder's eyes, silently communicating that he knew it was time for them to leave the camp with the almost undetectable tilt of his head.

Mulder's eyes then fell on Cyrus, who was being read a cruel sentence by Charlie in front of the crowd. With a sense of urgency, he glanced back at Doggett, who nodded in acknowledgement, knowing Mulder couldn't leave the young man behind to be slaughtered at the hands of a man who seemed to want power more than the truth. _Time for a distraction,_ Doggett thought, bolting from the edge of the circle toward Charlie. His risky move was enough to distract the men holding Mulder, who Mulder was then able to overpower, knocking them to the ground as he fled toward Cyrus.

Charlie's focus momentarily shifted to the commotion caused by Doggett and Mulder, who quickly found himself overpowered by Cyrus. An angry Cyrus beat him down to the ground, securing his weapon and holding it over Charlie with proliferating fury. "You know nothing about me," Cyrus affronted, breathing hard, his body aching with pain and adrenaline.

Mulder grabbed Cyrus' arm, urging him to run. "Come on!" Mulder shouted, pulling Cyrus away. After a moment of hesitation, he managed to lead Cyrus toward where he knew the cars were parked, trusting Doggett had arranged for Scully and Reyes to meet them there. Doggett joined them, several men fleeing after them, including the embarrassed and infuriated Charlie.

The three men were relieved to see a car's headlights turn on as they approached, the roaring of the engine a comfort to them as the beams of light guided them toward their escape. Hearing the men behind them getting closer, Mulder urged Cyrus forward, knowing the young man was badly hurt and weak, not able to run at his normal full strength. "Come on!" he shouted, their feet flying toward the waiting vehicle.

Scully threw open the door in the back of the car as soon as they were close enough, grabbing the fabric of the shirts the men wore and dragging them inside. Their feet had barely touched the floor of the car when Reyes slammed down on the accelerator, the SUV's tired spinning to life with power. Stones and gravel shot in all directions as Reyes cut the wheel toward the exit of the camp, Doggett in the front seat catching a glimpse of another car's lights turning on. There was going to be a chase.

In the back seat, Cyrus found himself slumped against the right passenger window using what little strength he had left to grip onto the door next to him as Reyes took off. He was still trying to catch his breath when the pain began to register in his mind again from his infected arm and the assault he had undergone both in town and by Charlie. He didn't move when he felt the back of Scully's hand rest itself on his forehead in concern, seeing the sheen of sweat and the flush to his face that she knew wasn't from exertion. "You're sick," she observed quietly, feeling removed from the chaos they were surrounded in as Reyes led a deadly chase in the dark.

Cyrus shut his eyes, choosing not to respond. Instead, he focused on the reality that was quickly sinking in. Everything he had worked on and for over the last nearly three years was gone. Everything he owned, left behind. All the sacrifices he had made that had manifested themselves in the camp he built now lost to distorted stories of malicious behavior. Every hope he had of using his resources to find Caraline was now further and further away with every turn of the four wheels that sped through the night.

"They're gaining on us," Doggett warned to Reyes, who increased the speed they were traveling at.

"How confident a driver are you?" Cyrus asked Reyes weakly.

"Tell me where to go," she replied, her eyes locked on the road.

"When I tell you," Cyrus instructed with a swallow against his pain, "hang a very sharp left. But brace yourselves."

The five waited in silence for Cyrus' cue, Cyrus focused on the dark roads he knew well. "Alright, get ready," he warned softly. Another few moments passed. "Now!" he shouted, Reyes cutting the wheel immediately on his call. The vehicle flew over the rocky terrain, the suspension jolting as it fought to keep stability on the cliff they were diving down. "At the bottom, go right!" Cyrus yelled, gripping the door as he nearly flew into Scully, who Mulder clutched to keep her safe. The bottom of the cliff came quickly, Reyes spinning the wheel to the right, the headlights behind them fading further away from how the cliff slowed them as they accepted the challenge. "Now, kill the lights and keep a steady straight until I say ... no matter what, yeah?" Cyrus said to Reyes.

"We won't be able to see!" Reyes argued.

"Look, it's the only way. I know these roads. I need the lot of you to trust me," Cyrus assured.

Receiving a disapproving grumble from Doggett, Reyes switched off the headlights, the darkness appearing to swallow them whole. Scully watched as Cyrus kept his bright blue eyes on the road, seemingly unphased by the risk. She gripped Mulder's hand tightly, feeling Mulder's arm wrapping around her even more securely than it had been before.

Scully heard Cyrus counting under his breath. "Four … three … two," then "LEFT!" he shouted. "HANG ON!"

Reyes spun the wheel madly to the left, clearing the large rock foundation that they then saw was in front of them, the road ending abruptly on the straight path they were previously traveling. Mulder's head whipped around when he heard two loud collisions behind them, faintly making out the outline of a car ramming into the stone while another rammed into it that had been following at top speed closely behind before they both ignited into flames. Cyrus had known the two cars couldn't have made the stop without seeing the stone ahead of time from the lights in the car they rode in. "Turn the lights on!" Cyrus quickly instructed, feeling his grip relax on the door as he slumped against his seat, pained inside at the death of those in the cars behind them. "Head north on thirty-seven to pick up seventy-seven north. Lake Corpus Christi is about an hour northwest of here."

"What's at Lake Corpus Christi?" Doggett asked.

Cyrus managed a small smile through his fever and pain. "Food, mate," he replied.

* * *

An hour later, the car slowed to a halt outside of Lake Corpus Christi, the body of water illuminated by the glow of the moon overhead. "Right," Cyrus said, adjusting in his seat. "There should be at least one or two vacant cabins. Last time I was here there weren't many people left. Probably find a fishing pole or two as well, or at the very least some beds."

The light came on in the car as Reyes shut off the engine, Scully leaning toward Cyrus and examining him. "You're getting worse," she murmured, seeing the young man slumped against the window in defeat.

"I'm fine," he insisted softly.

"I'm a doctor," Scully insisted. "Let me take a look."

Cyrus allowed himself to be manipulated by the petite woman next to him, not flinching as he felt Mulder's protective and watchful eyes on him. He winced as Scully examined the inflamed wound on his left arm that was next to her, catching her surprised reaction out of the corner of his eye. "Oh my God," she whispered. "Your infection ..."

"It'll be alright-"

"No," she insisted, still looking closely. "You need medical attention immediately. It's spreading rapidly through your bloodstream."

"Can't risk it, Dana," Cyrus murmured softly, keeping his eyes ahead. "Besides, now that all of you are safe, I'll be on my way."

"You're not going anywhere," Mulder interrupted with gentle firmness, surprising Cyrus, who looked over at him. "How far do you think you'll make it?" Mulder asked, his tone sincere. "Scully's right, your arm is in bad shape."

"I'm a righty," Cyrus joked half-heartedly. "I'll survive."

"Cyrus." Mulder's eyes searched the young man's intently. "Were you telling the truth back there? Did you exchange the vaccine for information on Caraline?"

"Yeah," Cyrus said with a small nod. "I was trying to secure a manifest of pacific coast vessels. I know she'd be smart enough to stay on the water or by it somewhere, especially given what you said about my niece. I figured William might drag them to somewhere with a concentration of magnetite even against his own risk. The Pacific coast has more than the Atlantic."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Doggett asked.

Cyrus sighed. "You think those blokes would've willingly given up their security blanket for my sister?" he asked. "Even with the quote unquote _abundance_ of food we had there, they wouldn't have given a crumb to anyone in need." They could see the hatred burning in Cyrus' eyes. "I've been seeing their true colors for a while, now. Especially Charlie. He resented my position. It was only a matter of time before they tried to nick me off. Guess I gave 'em good reason, though my intentions were for everyone's benefit."

The car was silent, each individually processing Cyrus' words. "There's no telling who was following us," Cyrus continued quietly. "No way to know who wants to see me dead now. I'd rather divert myself from the lot of you to avoid any more risk."

"You're sick, Cyrus," Mulder reminded.

"I'll survive," Cyrus insisted.

"It's not up for debate."

"Listen mate, if it's all the same, I got you here." Cyrus eyed Mulder, feeling the infection taking hold of him but forcing himself to remain firm. "Now I best be on my way."

Cyrus opened his door, stepping out onto the dirt shutting the door gently behind himself as he spotted a vehicle in the distance. _Theft. I'll add it to my list of what makes me a stellar human being, _he thought remorsefully. As he approached it, he was intercepted by Mulder. Cyrus shut his eyes, his head drooping in faint impatience. "Fox … sorry, Mulder … I can't risk the four of you anymore than I already have," Cyrus murmured. "I appreciate you removing me from the camp. I know it's at great risk to yourselves to have done so. I can't have any more responsibility on each of you by me staying."

"You want to find Cara, right?" Mulder asked gently, holding Cyrus' good arm with a firm grip. "Then your best shot is to do that with us." He saw how Cyrus resisted with his body language. "I understand what you've lost," Mulder said. "I know how much more is still at stake. You brought us into the camp to protect us. Now we're protecting you outside of it."

Cyrus' eyes found Mulder's; they each stared at each other in silence for a lengthy moment. Mulder felt a tug on his heart, the young man in front of him reminding him so much of his own son as well as himself. Cara would give anything to know she had family still left in the world, especially a brother with such passion and integrity. None of them had the heart to tell Cyrus that his father had died well over a year and a half ago. Mulder knew Cara was all Cyrus had left to cling to, his niece and nephew the only promise of family that remained.

"Why?" Cyrus whispered, confused by Mulder's change of heart. "Just a bit ago you thought I was dealing willingly with the devil."

"Because I've been where you are before," Mulder replied. "I know what it's like to search for someone, wanting so badly to find them that you give anything and everything you can." He swallowed, thinking of Samantha. "I have the chance now to help see that you find her."

Cyrus' eyes shut; he moistened his lips as Mulder continued to grip his right arm. "Alright," he finally said, his eyes still closed. Cyrus inhaled deeply, looking at Mulder with a small nod. "I swear to you I'll do whatever I can to find them," Cyrus whispered. "I won't stop until I do."

"I know you won't. Neither will I," Mulder assured with quiet confidence.

* * *

11:29 PM AKST

Will took a deep breath as he waited in the small line that formed behind the person in front of him on the computer. His slot was quickly approaching, though he knew he wouldn't have to worry about his time being taken. A rather imposing man with a disgruntled look stood next to the computer, every ten minutes only saying, "Time!" in a rude tone that wasn't to be questioned. When Will finally heard the word from the guard's lips, he stepped into place and immediately logged into his email.

His heart dropped when he saw the unread letters from his father in his inbox. Though he didn't have internet access for over six months, he felt guilty at the fifteen emails he received. He felt even more guilty as he was forced to skim through them, not being able to give them the time and attention he wanted to.

Each message had essentially the same core - where are you, why did you choose this, please come back to us, tell us where you are or at least that you're alive, prayers of well-being for him, Cara and the kids, your mother is heartbroken, so am I. What varied between each were the details relevant to the time of the letters being sent - information about the Censure as well as leads on underground rebellion groups and still-safe food sources at the top of the list. Will felt the tears so close to release but kept them at bay, needing to focus on the email he would compose to his father.

_Dad,_

_This is the first time I've had access to the internet in over six months since we left you and Mom. I wish I could write more but I am being timed for computer usage and I wanted to read what you wrote, or at least most of what you wrote. _

_I love you. I love Mom. Please tell her that. C, the kids and I are heading to CA. We should be in NM within a week's time. I've heard of a rebel group that sounds like it has promise. I don't know if it's incredibly stupid for me to reveal that over this connection but I'm desperate._

_The Censure is shutting down the barter system where we were. C was at danger, the kids too. I made a terrible, stupid mistake, Dad. I can't undo what I've done and it kills me. We need to stand together, Dad. We aren't nearly as strong apart. I realize that now. I hope it's not too late._

_I pray that you and Mom are safe. I hope to see you soon. C sends her love. The kids say hello. Literally. That will be explained when you see them. They know who you are though we haven't told them anything to protect you and Mom. They're incredibly smart and brave. You would be so proud of them. I know I am._

_I love you._

_W_

He quickly clicked the send button to ensure his message would be delivered before his time slot expired. The guard next to him nearly shouted his infamous word, Will just having enough time to log out of his email before heading back down to his third class cabin, where his son assured him through telepathy that he and his mother and sister were all safe.

Now, he was forced to wait until late tomorrow to see if he received a reply. All he could do tonight was pray the Censure didn't somehow locate him through the message he sent. If they did, they were as good as dead.

* * *

3:44 AM EST

He opened his eyes from his sleep and answered the phone though the time of the call received was off-putting. "Yes?"

"Sir, we've received a communique."

He reached for his cigarettes on the bedside table, removing one from the box. "Regarding?"

"William Mulder." He lit the cigarette, dragging it in the darkness of his apartment while he listened. "We somehow missed him, sir. He's inbound to California, most likely traveling on a private vessel on the pacific coast from Alaska."

His thin lips curled into a smile as he exhaled. "Then let's make sure we greet him when he arrives."


	9. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

June 24, 2013  
Mathis, TX  
3:28 AM CST

The four had managed to convince Cyrus of the merit to finding him medical supplies, specifically antivirals so Scully could begin treatment on his arm. The closest city to them, the small establishment of Mathis, boasted only a few private physician offices - no major hospital was to be found unless they headed back toward Corpus Christi. Mulder drove to Mathis under Cyrus' vague directions, Cyrus failing to remember all the ins and outs of the area in his high fever haze. They were all relieved when they finally spotted what looked to be a deserted clinical building, parking the car just far enough away so that Doggett and Reyes could keep an eye out while he and Scully broke in.

After carefully picking the lock to the clinic, surprised it still remained locked, Mulder filled the space first with his gun, afraid of encountering drug-dependent people who might become violent at the invasion of their supply. Most towns and cities had been taken over by those fortunate enough to somehow survive the virus, or worse, by replacements who controlled the areas without mercy. He was thankful for the magnetite bullets they kept on hand, though even those were dwindling in stock. Pretty soon, they would need to find another resource for the bullets or risk being unprepared when face-to-face with a replacement. Lack of money and Censure control over travel made it difficult to get to the places that might have them, leaving their options limited.

Scully entered into the clinic behind Mulder, her gun drawn as she cautiously followed his path in the darkened office. "What am I looking for, Scully?" Mulder asked, taking out his Maglite. He didn't want to risk someone seeing them illuminate the building by using the electricity, even though they both noticed it still was on and connected within the space.

"It wouldn't be out here, Mulder," Scully replied, heading toward the back portion of the building. "They'd keep the medicine out of sight in locked storage."

They walked side by side with their weapons readied, each in tune with their surroundings as they processed quietly, carefully. Mulder checked through glass windows of rooms, his flashlight beam cutting through the darkness. "What is this?" Mulder asked softly, eying one room.

"Looks to be the heating and cooling units," Scully replied, still focused on the task at hand. "A storage closet of some kind."

After a few more minutes, Mulder finally said, "Hey Scully, take a look at this," coming to a room that looked promising. Scully took a quick peek, nodding in approval as Mulder stooped to pick the lock. Mulder paused when he found it was already unlocked. With a glance back at Scully, he readied himself and kicked open the door. He checked the space, his eyes darting around the small room, looking for any signs of life.

When they deemed the coast clear, Scully flicked on the lights within the enclosed, windowless space, knowing they were safe to do so. She frantically began gathering items, stuffing them in a bag they had emptied before entering the clinic. Gauze, suturing supplies, painkillers, aminoglycosides, cephalosporins, quinolones, and synthetic penicillin flew from the shelves to the duffel bag, Mulder keeping an eye on the door as he silently urged her to go faster. "Come on, Scully, we've got to get out of here," he warned, feeling jumpy as the clock ticked loudly in his head.

Scully swiped another large quantity of items in haste, taking everything she could deem relevant for both Cyrus' condition and any other possible needs and zipping the bag. With a nod, Mulder killed the light and checked the hallway. It was empty. He grabbed Scully and urged her forward to safety, wanting nothing more than to get her back into the SUV at that point. He couldn't explain it, but something was off.

It was on the way out that the glow of the computer caught his eye. "Mulder!" Scully whispered, her eyes wide as she saw Mulder pause, staring at the computer. "Mulder, what are you doing?"

"Email, Scully. The battery won't last on the laptop," Mulder explained.

"Mulder, come on. We can find somewhere to recharge it," Scully justified, gripping his hand. "Cyrus needs to be treated."

"You go, Scully," he urged, gesturing toward the waiting door. "I just need to see something."

"Mulder-"

"I'll be out in five minutes," he insisted, turning for the computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard with expertise. Scully sighed, keeping her gun drawn as she exited the building, jogging back toward the waiting car as Doggett and Reyes watched in confusion.

"Where's Mulder?" Doggett asked.

"He wanted to access the network," Scully replied as she climbed in next to Cyrus, feeling uneasy about Mulder's choice.

"We need to get out of here," Doggett said softly.

"I know."

Scully turned her attention to Cyrus, who was completely slumped against the window, the right side of his body crushed against his dead weight as he shivered from his infection. "Turn the air conditioning higher," Scully instructed Doggett, who regretfully complied, concerned for the gas they were burning by cranking the cool air so quickly through the fans. Scully needed to keep Cyrus' body temperature down, though, despite his shivering. She couldn't let him overheat and fall unconscious. "Grab me a water, would you?" she asked Reyes, who fished around in the bag they had thrown together of food and drinks from the camp in their hasty exit. She handed Scully the small bottle, who pressed it to the young man's lips, watching as Cyrus struggled to even pick up his head to drink. "Come on, Cyrus," she urged with maternal gentleness. "There you go."

It was an effort for Cyrus to do what Scully tenderly asked of him. He tried to obey as fast as he could, knowing Scully intended to nurse him back to health. He felt so incredibly weak, though, that every request became a burden the instant his brain registered it. He felt the sleeve of his shirt rolled up, Scully's small, warm hands moving over his large bicep carefully, avoiding the puss-ridden gorge the knife had made in his flesh. He swallowed, blinking heavily as he heard her snap on a pair of gloves; he could faintly see the intense concentration she had while looking him over through his heavy lidded eyes. "I need more light," she determined, her lips parted softly as she examined the wound. "I need to lay him down, he's too weak. I need to flush the wound."

Doggett looked back to the building Mulder was still in. He threw open his door, his gun in hand as he jogged toward the entrance, Reyes watching as Scully continued to try to make Cyrus comfortable.

Inside, Mulder tapped his foot with impatience at the slow, stolen connection he finally bridged, seeing his inbox sluggishly load. He was shocked to see an email from Will; he blinked several times, feeling as if he was imagining it in a sleep-deprived stupor. His hand shook as he clicked on it, opening it to reveal Will's message:

_Dad,_

_This is the first time I've had access to the internet in over six months since we left you and Mom. I wish I could write more but I am being timed for computer usage and I wanted to read what you wrote, or at least most of what you wrote. _

_I love you. I love Mom. Please tell her that. C, the kids and I are heading to CA. We should be in NM within a week's time. I've heard of a rebel group that sounds like it has promise. I don't know if it's incredibly stupid for me to reveal that over this connection but I'm desperate._

_The Censure is shutting down the barter system where we were. C was at danger, the kids too. I made a terrible, stupid mistake, Dad. I can't undo what I've done and it kills me. We need to stand together, Dad. We aren't nearly as strong apart. I realize that now. I hope it's not too late._

_I pray that you and Mom are safe. I hope to see you soon. C sends her love. The kids say hello. Literally. That will be explained when you see them. They know who you are though we haven't told them anything to protect you and Mom. They're incredibly smart and brave. You would be so proud of them. I know I am._

_I love you._

_W_

He read it through twice, his heart not believing his eyes as he processed the words into his photographic memory. Will was alright. He was alive. Cara and the children were alright. What was even more comforting was that Will was trying to find him and Scully. He frantically pressed the print command after his second time through the email, hearing the old unit roar to life with a groaning protest.

"Mulder!"

Mulder heard Doggett's voice outside, swallowing as he waited for the paper to continue to feed through, moistening his lips in anticipation as the printer failed to recognize his urgency. It was then that he heard a rattling sound coming from a room nearby toward the rear of the building. The suddenness of it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Come on, come on," he willed the paper through a whisper, his heart racing as he clutched his gun on a readied defense.

Finally, the printed email spit out and Mulder quickly logged off, returning the computer to its original state. He heard Doggett's voice call him again, this time seemingly louder. He assumed Doggett was now fully inside the office. Mulder carefully peered out of the glass square on the door, seeing the space that led to the exit empty. Shoving the paper in his pocket, he opened the door and stepped out of the small administrative area he had been in, the front door that Doggett was standing in a welcomed sight for his overly nervous mind.

Another loud rattle clanged behind him, causing both Mulder and Doggett to look toward the back of the building. "Come on, Mulder!" Doggett urged, growing worried at the noise. Mulder hesitated for only a moment, beginning to cross toward Doggett when he froze, drawing his gun.

"RUN!" he yelled to Doggett, his firearm aimed into a darkened space, rounds blasting quickly. Doggett jumped, his surprise generated from the screech he heard when Mulder's bullets impacted their target. Mulder shoved Doggett through the door, his feet flying with fury as they fled for the waiting SUV. "GET IN THE CAR!" Mulder screamed to Doggett, firing more rounds behind him as what Mulder was so afraid of became apparent. The newborn alien seemed to roar with an ungodly curdle in its voice, shrieking in pain from Mulder's bullets that lodged into the beast.

Doggett grabbed Mulder's arm, dragging him with him to the car. Doggett quickly jumped in the driver's seat, Mulder filling the back passenger seat as they started the engine amid Scully and Reyes' questioning shock at the rounds fired. Doggett sped off, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw the lifeless body of the alien remaining on the ground. "Shit," he breathed, "that was close."

"Too fucking close," Mulder panted, resting his head against the seat.

"Mulder, what the hell were you thinking?" Scully snapped, her hands still trying to work on Cyrus' arm as much as she could in the rocking car. "You could've been killed!"

"William … emailed me," Mulder whispered through catching his breath.

"What?" Scully whispered, her eyes growing large at the statement.

Mulder fished the email from his pocket, pressing the crumpled paper into her lap. "They're coming for us," he murmured. "They're on their way." Mulder looked at Cyrus. "He was right," Mulder noted, seeing Cyrus' eyes shut, the young man seeming to barely be conscious. "They should be to California in a couple days' time."

"Oh my God."

"Then we have to get to California," Doggett concluded. "Did William send the email through a secured network?"

Mulder shook his head. "I don't know. I don't think he does either."

"If the Censure intercepted his email …" Reyes began softly, too fearful to conclude her thought.

"Did you reply?" Scully asked Mulder.

He nodded. "Briefly. Hopefully he'll be able to check his email again to see it," Mulder replied. His eyes fell back onto Cyrus. "We need to treat him," he noted, seeing Scully's concern over Cyrus' condition.

"I can't do it in a moving car, Mulder," she whispered.

"Then we need to get back to the lake for the night and get a few hours of sleep. We'll start for California in the morning."

* * *

Lake Corpus Christi, TX  
4:22 AM CST

By the time they reached the lake from Mathis and located an abandoned cabin they could camp out in, Cyrus had slipped into unconsciousness from his fever, though Scully had administered medication to try to bring it down on the ride there. Mulder and Doggett carried the tall, well-built man into the dimly-lit cabin, laying him carefully on a cot that was inside. Scully descended on Cyrus immediately, working frantically as she cleaned and treated his knife wound that was growing more infected by the minute. She injected him with a round of antivirals, praying it would attack the bacteria in his bloodstream that was seeking to kill him.

Reyes stayed by her side, handing her needed supplies and assisting however she could while Mulder and Doggett searched the cabin for provisions. They were able to find two fishing poles, which they saw were accompanied by a scant supply of earthworms, nightcrawlers and even a few grubs in a small container with dirt. "You were an Indian guide, right?" Doggett said to Mulder, eying the materials.

"That was a long time ago," Mulder said lightly, unsure about their chance of success finding food in the vast lake the cabin faced.

"Well, here goes nothing," Doggett murmured, snatching a pole and the bait while Mulder grabbed the other, the two pausing as they entered the room where Scully was still working on Cyrus. "We found some equipment," Doggett announced.

"You're going to fish in the dark?" Reyes asked, wanting to laugh at the absurdity.

"It'll be light soon," Mulder insisted.

"Do either of you really know what you're doing?" The two men looked down at Reyes, their eyes narrowed in defense. "I didn't think so," she mumbled.

"Go," Scully said softly with a tiny smile, her focus still on suturing Cyrus' wound. "They need your help out there more than I do in here."

When the three left, Scully took a deep breath, trying to gather both her stamina and hope. The glow of the light on the table beside the bed highlighted the fevered redness of Cyrus' handsome face, his eyes still shut, a wet rag draped over his forehead. As she took the rag to dip it in the bucket of water Monica retrieved from the lake, Cyrus stirred, which gave Scully great relief. "Cyrus?" she whispered, her hands working on moistening the cloth while her eyes were focused on his face. She wrung the rag out, draping it back over his hot forehead. She saw his lips part; he was muttering something so softly she had to lean her ear next to his lips to hear it. When she realized what he was saying, she leaned back, feeling pained for Cyrus, who clearly was still deep in the woods in his condition despite his regained consciousness. She saw his lips keep moving, repeating the same words in his stupor:

"Leave me. Find them. Leave me. Find them."

"We're not leaving you, Cyrus," Scully whispered, finding herself fingering his sandy blonde hair with the tenderness of a mother. "Shh," she said, the back of her hand finding his cheek and gauging his temperature. Despite all the supplies she had managed to find, she couldn't seem to locate a thermometer in the clinic.

"Water, please," she heard him stammer, his voice cracking. She quickly lifted a bottle of clean water to his mouth, supporting his head as he drank. His breathing was labored as she guided his head back onto the pillow when he finished. She was pleased, though, when he seemed to slowly become more aware of her presence.

"Where … is everyone?" he managed, his eyes fully opening as he took in her face.

"They're trying to catch some fish," Scully replied, her hand still lingering in his hair as she stroked him soothingly.

"In ... the dark?" Cyrus was clearly confused.

"I guess so," Scully said with a smile.

Cyrus swallowed, feeling every inch of his insides were either bone dry or aching. "Thank you," he whispered, his gaze locked on Scully. "Even … my own mother … never treated me this well." He laughed, coughing and clutching the blanket in his fist against the pain of his arm that rattled from the movement.

"I'm sure your mother was a good person," Scully assured gently, knowing her assumption wasn't founded in any sort of truth other than her own hope for Cyrus.

He murmured, "I loved her. She … she was my mother. But … she was an actress … I could never … tell when … she was acting … and when she wasn't." He shifted, blinking slowly. "She chose … her addiction … over me. It … killed her … when I was sixteen. She … was so young … can't blame her … for not being better." He paused, inhaling deeply, shuddering against the chill he felt. "Can I be … selfish for a bit?" he asked, the way he asked breaking Scully's heart.

"Of course," she replied, adjusting the cloth on his head, mopping the beads of sweat from his brow.

"I'm not trying … to be weird … but …would you … keep … doing that?" he whispered, strained.

Scully's eyebrow arched. "Doing what?"

"The thing … with your hand …"

Scully realized how she had been absentmindedly stroking Cyrus' head, her fingers twisting his hair with maternal grace and care. She fought her immediate reaction to withdraw her hand from embarrassment; she barely knew Cyrus but was nurturing him like a son. When she looked into his eyes, though, she smiled, keeping the steady stroke of her hand on his head as she saw him draw comfort from the simple gesture, his breathing becoming less strained as he relaxed under her. "Of course," she replied, fighting the tears that formed. Her heart ached for the young man she kept watch over, but moreso for her own son who she wished she could be close to as she was now with Cyrus.

"I guess … one never gets too old … for that kind of care," he joked, wincing as he moved his arm to rest his hand on his stomach under the blanket he was under. He closed his eyes, Scully's hand not missing a beat despite her emotions and the tug on her heart from Cyrus' words. "William … he's a lucky man …" She saw Cyrus smile slightly. "He's got my sister … children … Fox … and you. I envy him … for all he has."

She didn't know what to say to his admission; she was grateful when she realized he had drifted back off to sleep, the breath coming easily and gently through his parted lips. His skin seemed cooler to the touch - he was coming out of the fever. She chewed her lip, keeping her hand busy in his hair as she reflected on Will. Scully felt the brush of her cross necklace against her throat and chest and began reflecting on the many lessons of faith she knew from the Bible.

She didn't remember the Bible saying anything about alien Colonization, but she closed her eyes and prayed anyway.

* * *

11:06 AM CST

The group managed to get some sleep after consuming the three small fish Mulder, Doggett and Reyes had managed to pull from the lake. Scully didn't know when she dozed off, but woke to a gentle touch on her shoulder. "Dana," the voice said softly, helping her wake. When she fully opened her eyes, she saw her head was resting on Cyrus' muscular stomach, her small hand clutching his much larger one. Surprised, she bolted up, seeing Cyrus laugh above her, her face wrought with confused embarrassment. He was still in the process of pulling himself to sit up, fighting the pain of his arm with his renewing strength. "I tend to have that effect on women," he teased with a grin, coming to fully sit up, the blanket coasting down his shirtless upper half. "Suppose it's why I'm single."

"I'm sorry," she murmured, smoothing her hair quickly. "I didn't realize …"

"It's quite alright," Cyrus assured gently, his grin still present as he nodded toward the door. "Just didn't want Fox to bludgeon me to death with a fishing pole if he got the wrong idea."

Scully looked over, seeing Mulder leaning up against the wall by the door, his head resting back as he slept. Doggett and Reyes were next to each other, embracing as they slept on the floor. She looked back to Cyrus, who was examining the expertly-wrapped bandage on his arm. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"A hell of a lot better than a few hours ago," Cyrus murmured, still looking at his arm. "I have you to thank for that," he added softly, catching her eyes.

"I'm glad the antivirals seem to be working," Scully concluded, her eyes coasting over him clinically in evaluation.

He caught the way her eyes seemed to linger, feeling uncomfortable. "I don't suppose you know where my clothes ended up?" Cyrus mumbled, feeling the blanket drape over the skin on his boxer-clad lower half.

"We removed them to cool you to help get your fever down," Scully explained, her hand moving over his forehead and cheeks to determine his temperature. She crossed toward Mulder's travel bag and began fishing around, finding a pair of jeans and a white tee shirt. "Yours are in serious need of a washing," she said, handing Cyrus the clothes.

"Are you sure?" Cyrus asked, his brow wrinkled as he looked at the items.

"Yes," Scully assured. "They might be a little short, though. But maybe not. Some of Mulder's are long on him."

"Better than nothing at all," Cyrus said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, pulling the blanket aside. With an unexplained blush that worried her, Scully turned away from Cyrus as he stood. She heard him sigh in regret at himself behind her. "Sorry," he murmured, "wasn't very kind of me to not warn you. I've turned into a bit of a Jerry. Guess I just forget how to act in the company of a lady."

"It's okay," Scully said, taking a deep breath with her back to Cyrus, hearing him shrug on the jeans. _Get a grip, Dana, _she shouted in her mind, feeling utterly confused and bothered by her inability to resist Cyrus' magnetism, her heart racing. _I could be his mother! And anyway, I thought the whole attraction thing was only Shield to Shield, _she thought curiously, realizing Cyrus was somehow seducing her without any intention or effort to on his part. He was being normal; he wasn't making advances. Yet, she felt bewitched by him, as her sense of choice was being taken from her. "What's a Jerry?" she asked, trying to get her mind off of the uncomfortable subject.

Cyrus laughed, slowly pulling on his white shirt. "Jerry was my uncle," he explained. "He was the rock solid definition of a bachelor."

"Ahh."

"Suppose everyone has one of those relatives. The oddball. They're usually the most interesting at a dinner party, though." He finished smoothing the shirt over himself. "Right then, I'm safe for the eyes now," he teased softly, seeing Scully turn back around. "You should get some rest in the bed," Cyrus offered, picking up his discarded socks and boots, pulling them on as he stood.

"The pants fit," Scully observed as Cyrus stood, his lips pressing together as he processed her comment and the way she held his gaze.

"They do," he agreed politely, trying to gauge the vibe he felt from her. "Thank you again. I'll be sure to tell Fox … sorry, Mulder … thank you as well when I get back."

"Where are you going?"

"Just need to take care a bit of personal business," Cyrus explained gently with a smile. He was puzzled by the intense look Scully gave him. Inwardly, he groaned, coming to the conclusion it was him that was to blame. _Damn stupid project, _he grumbled internally, hating how it made some women who weren't Shields uncomfortable. He felt like a creep; his genetic makeup could be overbearing without him even trying. His father had once described him as "walking pheromones." It was at first appealing to a randy teenager, but quickly became less and less enticing as he sought for honest attraction and chemistry in a mate rather than something produced against someone's will or better judgment. He had no interest in Scully, nor was he trying to lure her in any way. Yet, just being his usual self was enough to stir things up, which is why he kept to himself for the most part. With a curt nod, he left the cabin, shutting the side door away from Mulder that he left through gently.

* * *

An hour later, the group was on the road west toward California. Cyrus took residence in his seat on the right portion of the bench in the back of the vehicle, Doggett and Reyes now swapping with Mulder and Scully to accompany him while they rode up front. Cyrus felt relieved that Scully wasn't sitting directly next to him; he didn't want to have to Mulder possibly punch him should Mulder gain the wrong impression from her just being near him. He was quiet as he peered out of the window, his eyes fixed on the passing scenery as the group coasted along the highway in near silence aside from the occasional musings regarding the Censure.

San Diego, California was nineteen hours away on Interstate Ten West, a map taken from an abandoned gas station helping them to navigate the trip. They weren't sure which port Will, Cara and the children would be at, but chose San Diego to start with for its proximity alone, assuming they could travel up the coast if necessary. Despite Scully's advisement against it, Cyrus had helped Mulder and Doggett siphon some gas from a few cars left in the autobody shop section of the station. They managed to nearly fill the tank in the fuel-efficient SUV. Cyrus now rotated his sore left arm at the shoulder as he sat quietly, careful not to knock into Doggett next to him. "You alright?" Mulder asked, glancing back at him in the rearview mirror as he drove.

"Doing fine, thanks," Cyrus answered politely.

"You shouldn't have been lifting," Scully objected. "You could tear the sutures."

"Eh, Mulder and John did most of the heavy lifting," Cyrus replied with a smile. "I was mainly supervising."

Mulder's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Cyrus in between driving, seeing Cyrus' focus not shift from the window though he spoke to them. "She's right," he agreed quietly, taking peeks back at Cyrus, who still didn't move.

"Can't sit around and let you two do all the work," Cyrus said quietly. "Everyone's had a job so far. I've got to earn my keep."

"You can when you're better," Scully chided, turning to look at him over her right shoulder.

Cyrus' eyes flicked to hers, lingering for a moment. "I'd like to see to it that I rebuild my reputation," he murmured. "I've got a lot of holes poked into it recently that need mending."

"You need to heal," Scully insisted.

"I will. I promise." Cyrus' tone was gentle, deep. He looked quickly away, feeling angry at himself for what he had no control over as he saw her skin flush from what he could only assume was his response.

Her reaction didn't go unnoticed by Mulder, who peered over at first Scully curiously, then back at Cyrus, who resumed gazing out the window. He felt his concern grow quickly over what remained unspoken, trying to swallow back his possessive nature but failing to. His distraction caused him to swerve in the road, the sudden jolt shaking him out of his thoughts. Everyone gripped onto their seat or the door closest to them with surprise. "Whoa," Doggett said, "you alright, Mulder?"

"Fine," Mulder replied stiffly.

"Want me to drive?" Doggett offered. He knew they didn't hardly get any sleep for what energy they had exerted over the last day.

"I'm fine," Mulder repeated, feeling his grip tighten on the wheel. His eyes moved quickly to the rearview mirror to observe Cyrus, seeing he hadn't seemed to have moved despite the upset. _It's not his fault, _Mulder kept reminding himself, trying to avoid drawing conclusions for the unexpected tension between Scully and Cyrus. _A man can't help what's done to him. … Could he?_

* * *

10:34 PM AKST

"Well?" Cara asked impatiently, standing from her seat on the folding chair, the children sleeping in the bed to the right of her. She watched Will shut the cabin door gently, seeing him draw a deep breath.

"He wrote me," Will murmured, turning to Cara.

"That's great!" Cara exclaimed softly, moving to Will. "What did he say?"

"They've left the camp," Will replied.

"What camp?"

"The Insurgence."

"But you said-"

"They were brought in, but managed to escape with their lives," Cara's eyes widened at Will's statement. "Apparently, things were less than ideal there."

"So where are they now?"

"Headed to California. They hope to be able to meet us coming off the boat."

Cara saw Will's hesitance; his demeanor was off. "Will, what's wrong?" she whispered. "Are they …"

"They're fine," he assured, taking her hands into his. He was silent as he rubbed circles over them carefully, his eyes focused on the task his hands were busy with.

"Will," he heard her whisper, "Will, you're scaring me."

"I'm not trying to."

"Then … tell me … whatever it is you're not telling me!" Her voice was urgent as she moved closer to him.

"Later," he murmured, smiling at her.

"Bullshit," she snapped in a whisper. "Now."

"Cara-"

"Now, William." Will swallowed; he felt her eyes searching him with intensity. "Will!" she demanded, her heart racing in panic.

"They're …" Will shook his head. He couldn't do it.

"Please, Will," she begged. "Please tell me."

"They're … They're with others," Will finally managed to say, wincing as he looked up at the ceiling, doing anything to avoid his wife's eyes.

"Who?" Cara asked, her mind reeling with dangerous possibilities.

"Doggett, Reyes …"

"Oh," Cara sighed in relief. "What's so scary about that? That's great, in fact!"

Will's eyes shifted down to Cara's, his hands still holding hers protectively. "And your brother," he added softly.


	10. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

She didn't know what her face must have looked like, but judging from Will's worried reaction, it must have looked bad. "Cara?" Will whispered, touching her cheek. She knew she must have been pale, or at least looked like she was ready to pass out, since Will was treating her with kid gloves. "Sit," he ordered, taking her by the shoulders and lowering her to the folding chair. She saw him appear in front of her face as he knelt between her knees, still gripping her shoulders to steady her as she stared through him. "Cara?" he asked again. He took a deep breath. "Baby, please," he whispered. She knew he must have been scared when he used a pet name, something he reserved only for either sheer ecstasy or sheer terror.

"Brother?" she heard herself ask, feeling as if she was having an out of body experience. _Brother. Brother. Brother._

Will nodded, words failing him as he watched her blink slowly. "Cara?" he whispered, seeing her eyes glaze over again. "Cara, you're scaring the shit out of me." His admission seemed to help her snap out of her trance, her head tilting up so she could look into Will's eyes. "I take it you didn't ever suspect you had an older brother," Will murmured.

She shook her head. "What … how … when …"

"One thought at a time," Will urged gently, seeing Cara's breathing grow quicker.

Her thoughts left her, though. Her mind was blank, empty and vastly open, she drifting in it like an astronaut in space. There was no gravity provided by questions that could be answered. "My father said he is a Shield," Will whispered, seeing her eyes return to hold his gaze. "His name is Cyrus."

_Cyrus. Cyrus. Cyrus … English? Brother. Cyrus. Brother. _"Cyrus," she murmured as a statement rather than a question.

Will nodded again. "He was the leader of the Insurgence."

"Cyrus," Cara whispered.

"Jesus, Cara," Will said, panicking, "please … please just … talk to me."

"I'm going to be sick," she stated, shutting her mouth quickly as she bolted from the chair, nearly knocking Will over as she ran out of the cabin.

"Cara!" he called, grumbling as he watched the door swing shut. His eyes fell on his children who were still fast asleep, unaffected by their parents. He didn't want to leave them in the room by themselves, so he peered around for Cara from the doorway. "Cara?" he asked, not seeing her. _Shit._ "Cara!"

He paused, taking one step out into the long walkway, keeping one foot inside the doorway. He heard her faintly coughing, assuming she was in the bathroom at the other end.

Inside the restroom, Cara repeatedly splashed water on her face after flushing the toilet, shaking as she slowly looked at herself in the mirror. _Brother, _she thought. _I have an older brother. _In less than a minute, she suddenly felt herself become angry, the initial shock wearing away as she stormed from the bathroom, her eyes locked on Will.

Once inside the room, as quietly as she could manage, she corrected, "I don't have an older brother! I was an only child!"

"Look," Will said carefully, holding his hands up, "that's all the email said."

"How the hell is he my brother?" Cara demanded.

"Uh … I …"

"This is bullshit!"

"Cara-"

Her voice was raising. "Whoever they're with is a liar," she nearly yelled, not realizing she had startled Emma and Max.

"Mommy?" Emma asked, her bright green eyes wide with fear as Max sat up beside her.

Cara was breathing heavily as her focus shifted to her children. "Oh sweetie," she murmured, feeling horrible for waking them. She turned on the overhead light and swept them both into her arms as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Shh, Mommy's sorry," she whispered, kissing their heads.

"Who's a liar, Mommy?" Max asked as he was pressed against his mother's chest.

"Nobody, baby."

"Who is … Sigh-Rus?"

"Max," Cara said, pulling her son away from her to look in his eyes, "don't worry about it, okay?" She chewed her lip as she examined the little boy carefully. "It's no one," she assured, running her fingers through his messy brown hair.

"Why are you scared?" Max asked. Emma clung to Cara; she had settled into her arms and fell back to sleep quickly.

"You need to sleep," Cara stammered, unwilling to answer her son's question. She laid Emma down carefully, then guided Max to lay next to her. "Rest," she urged, kissing his forehead, then Emma's lightly as she stood, flicking off the overhead light.

Enraged, Cara looked at Will. "That email wasn't from your father," she concluded in a hushed tone, grabbing Will's arm and dragging him outside of the cabin. She was grateful there was no lock on the door as she shut it behind them, turning to face Will in front of her in the hallway.

"What do you mean?" Will asked, seeming offended at the suggestion. "Of course it was!"

"Will," Cara argued, "don't you see that they're trying to mess with our heads?" She looked into his eyes. "Will, I don't have an older brother. Period. They're trying to throw me for a loop."

"What are you saying? The Censure hacked into my father's account?"

"Why not?"

"Why is that more plausible than you having an older brother?"

"Come on, Will!" Cara exclaimed in a hushed tone. "Don't you get it? More family for me to feel vulnerable about. More for you to worry about. More responsibility. It's all a fabrication, Will."

Will eyed his wife, hearing her but not agreeing. "I disagree," he stated softly, seeing her surprise. "That email was from my father. I read it. You didn't. I know it was from him."

"It's an email for Christ's sake, Will!" Cara shook her head. "How could you possibly determine who wrote an email by the context of it?"

"Look," Will argued, grabbing Cara's hands, "just because you don't want to believe it doesn't mean I can't."

"Will … for crying out loud, the guy's name is supposedly 'Cyrus'!" She laughed under her breath. "I mean, seriously … if they wanted to pretend I had an older brother, why give him such a … Persian name? Obviously I'm NOT Persian!"

"Maybe his mother was," Will mumbled regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. He didn't seem to have control of them as they spilled out, their effect spreading rapidly over Cara's face. He winced.

"What the hell are you saying, Will?" Cara demanded.

"Cara-"

"Are you trying to tell me that my father had an affair? That he cheated on my mother?" she demanded. "Because if you are, you'd better find another cabin to sleep in!"

"All I'm saying is," Will began gently, reaching for her hands but failing to secure them because of her resistance, "maybe it was from a previous relationship. I mean … your father kept secrets from you before. What's to say he didn't keep this a secret too?"

The door shut, Will standing in front of it alone, his head hanging in defeat. "Stupid," he sighed as he clutched the knob. He twisted it, but the door wouldn't open. "Cara," he grumbled against the door. "Come on … don't do this …" He shut his eyes, knowing she had moved the chair under the knob of the door. He leaned his forehead against the wood as he exhaled, feeling helpless and angry at not only himself for his insensitivity, but at her for her anger toward him as a mere messenger.

He didn't know how long he stood in front of the door, not wanting to startle the children by using his powers to move the chair until he was convinced he heard her sobbing softly in the room. As quietly as he could, he focused on moving the chair and opened the door, seeing her in the corner hugging her knees to her chest in the sliver of light that filtered from the hallway. He closed the door gently and kneeled in front of her, his hands running over her thighs. "Cara," he whispered, drawing her against him, feeling her sniff as she pressed her cheek against his chest. "I'm sorry," he said, wrapping his arms around her tightly, kissing her head.

"No, I should be sorry," she insisted with a suppressed quiver. "I … just … it's so hard to believe."

Will nodded. "I can imagine."

Nothing more was said about Cyrus or the subject of unknown relatives. Will knew that Cara still didn't believe Cyrus was, in fact, her brother, or at the very least her half brother. He didn't push the topic, though. "Did you reply?" he heard her whisper after a while, still close to his chest.

"Didn't have time to," Will replied, resting his chin on Cara's head. "Connection was pretty crappy and they're strict about time slots."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

"I know."

"Get some sleep," Will urged, kissing her gently on her hair.

He knew she wouldn't right away; he knew she was still reeling silently over the possibility of having an older brother, an uncle for her children, a brother-in-law for him. But who was Cyrus? What was his story? Was he to be trusted? He didn't know the answers to the questions he asked in the quiet of his mind. He wasn't sure if he wanted to - he didn't know if either of them were prepared for the truth.

* * *

June 25, 2013  
Near Tuscon, Arizona  
2:14 AM MST

"You're fifteen over the change, mate," Cyrus observed quietly, looking at the yellow digital display on the dash.

Mulder didn't reply; he guided the car to a slow halt on the shoulder, putting the vehicle into park. Closing his eyes, Cyrus climbed out with a sigh. Mulder hadn't spoken a word to him in nearly twelve hours and the tension had grown so much that it became a living thing with a genetic code rather than a symbolic feeling. Slowly, Cyrus walked around the SUV under the light of the moon, the white glow illuminating the desert that surrounded them. He waited for Mulder to climb out of the driver's seat, seeing the hesitation he had as he caught his eye. "Let's take a walk," he offered. "I need to stretch my legs a bit."

_Shit, I'm going to die tonight in the middle of a bloody fucking desert,_ Cyrus thought, squirming inside as reluctantly following Mulder like a scolded child. _He'll probably impale me with a cactus. _

There was a space of silence between them as they walked slowly side by side, the car now in a considerable distance as Mulder turned, ensuring he could still see the vehicle to keep an eye on it. "I want to know what you know," he said flatly to Cyrus, his eyes on the SUV.

"I'm not sure I follow," Cyrus said in honest confusion.

"I want to know what you know," Mulder repeated, his gaze not moving as he looked away from him.

"Well … I suppose right now, the most I know is that the Censure is based in Mount Weather in Virginia and-"

"No," Mulder corrected, finally making eye contact with him. "Something's not adding up." He folded his arms over his chest.

"What in the bloody hell do you mean by that?" Cyrus asked, feeling defensive.

Mulder eyed him. "When did you establish the camp?"

"Nearly three years ago in two-thousand and ten," Cyrus snapped.

"Why not look for Cara sooner?" Mulder demanded, his arms falling to his sides. "Why wait until now? Why not try to bring her into the camp before?"

"Perhaps you didn't hear me the first time," Cyrus spat, "I couldn't find her."

"Or is it you weren't looking until just now?"

Cyrus tilted his chin up, glaring down at Mulder. "You think I'm full of it, don't you?" he asked softly, exhaling through his nose in disgust.

"I'm just trying to protect my son and his family," Mulder replied cooly.

"And I already told you, I'm after the same bloody thing!" Cyrus shook his head. "You've got your knickers twisted over something I can't help," he sneered. "It's _not_ my fault, so don't create a scapegoat for your insecurities in me."

"Who said I'm insecure?" Mulder demanded.

"You're saying it right now, mate!"

"This isn't about me!"

"Then tell me how it's about me," Cyrus demanded, taking a step closer to Mulder. He wasn't intimidated by him or what he was accusing him of. "Because I have a clue as to what you're trying to imply, and I'm not fond of it." He was livid at Mulder's assumptions. "Do you think I relish going through life the way I have to? Huh? Do you think I get off on it or something? Like I'm some kind of sick tosser who has no sense of decency or morality? Why in the hell do you think I've kept to myself? Even in the camp? It's like a fucking plague I can't escape. Perhaps it's something that another man wouldn't mind, but I rather detest it myself."

Cyrus spun around, walking away from Mulder into the desert, cursing under his breath. "Do me a favor, eh Yank?" he shouted over his shoulder as he separated himself from Mulder. "Either kill me like you want to or leave me be. I sure as hell don't need or want your charity anymore."

Mulder growled, "Hey!" and ran after him, pissed. "You're not going anywhere!" He grabbed his shoulder, which was the last straw for Cyrus.

"What in the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Cyrus demanded, facing Mulder. "Take your hand off me!" He shrugged Mulder's grip from him, feeling himself caught again as he tried to turn away. "You don't know how hard I'm restraining myself from decking you right now," Cyrus seethed, glaring at Mulder.

"Probably just as hard as I'm restraining myself from decking you," Mulder retorted, equally enraged.

"For God's sake, man, get your head out of your arse for a moment!" Cyrus yelled, shrugging Mulder off of himself again. "Your wife misses her son!" He paused, letting the words sink in for Mulder. "I remind her of your son! All the other stuff is inconsequential, petty bullshit that neither she nor I want or are promoting! The sooner you realize that, the better!"

In that moment, Mulder realized what Cyrus was saying was true, that Cyrus had become a manifestation of Will for Scully. The other unfortunate components of who Cyrus was were something even Cyrus was disgusted with. "Must be nice going through life with your own choices to make," Cyrus said darkly, his voice low. "I haven't known what that's like for nearly half my life now. And I'll never know it again, either." His jaw tightened. "I make fun of it. I make jokes about it. Truth of the matter is, I _loathe_ what my father did to me. To my sister. Maybe even to her children through genetics. I made the camp because all I wanted was to not feel like I was some kind of rejected experiment, to at least feel like I had people to care for and about. The camp was what that bastard wanted, and at the time I longed for his praise and affection. That's all that sons ever want, right? Their fathers' approval? … I was never good enough for him. I've realized that now for a while. Caraline … she is _too good_ for him. She's too good for that sorry son of a bitch who knocked up her mother then purposely infected his child with a virus after nearly killing her to strip her blood from her body. I don't care if I ever hear from the bastard again. I hope he rots in hell where he belongs. Better yet, I pray he's still alive and suffering at the hands of the bastard Colonists who he thought he could pull a fast one on." Cyrus spit on the ground, panting heavily. "Caraline was sold - SOLD - like a piece of furniture to the Devil himself. Like an object. Like something that could be owned instead of a living, breathing person. She's too good for him, for his fucked up project. And she's too good for your son, for you, for Dana. She's too good for this entire world. She's ALL I have left, and by God I won't let you and your ignorance and your inferiority complex get in my way of trying to find her and protect her."

Mulder instantly felt horrible. Cyrus was right - Mulder had acted just like Will had when he was in prison and found out about Cara's kiss shared with Wesson. There were bigger things at stake than what he had been focusing on for the better part of the day. Hearing Cyrus' unabashed anger toward the Shield Project and the late Timothy English struck him deeply. Perhaps it was all that had happened over the last year and a half, perhaps it was something he had naturally separated himself from thinking about, but he had never considered the implications of the children who underwent treatment in the compound for Timothy's experimental project. He immediately remembered what he discovered when he finally received closure about his own sister, disgusted at the pain she endured, how her life had been decided so cruelly for her at the hands of the same man who felt he owned Cara. He became humbled, seeing the glassiness of Cyrus' eyes he knew the young man was trying to hide, seeing him turn and walk away.

"Wait," Mulder said softly. "Cyrus, wait." Cyrus paused, keeping his back to Mulder. "I'm sorry," he murmured, sighing. "I-" Mulder froze midway, his eyes falling on headlights that were coming at them from the opposite direction.

Cyrus glanced back at Mulder, his eyes then moving to what Mulder was observing. "What is it?" he asked hesitantly.

"Get in the car," Mulder murmured, grabbing Cyrus and shoving him back toward the car.

"What's wrong?" Cyrus insisted.

"Just get in the car." Mulder yanked him forward, his eyes still on the car.

Cyrus hesitated. "There are still other people in the world besides us, you know."

"Don't argue with me!" Mulder snapped.

"You're being paranoid!"

"Listen, either get in the car or-"

Shots rang out through the air and both men dove to the rocky ground in shock. "Shit!" Mulder growled, scrambling to his feet as he crouched while running toward the car, his hand grasping Cyrus' white tee shirt, dragging him along. More gunshots from a distance were aimed at them, the moonlight above them helping their enemy to see them as they fired in their direction. "Are you a good shot?" Mulder yelled as they sprinted back to the SUV.

"Give me the keys!" Cyrus shouted back, catching the keys as he made his way to the driver's side, Mulder diving into the passenger door.

"What the hell is going on?" Doggett demanded, jerking forward as Cyrus slammed on the gas, the car shooting forward toward the vehicle carrying the people who were trying to kill them.

"We've been followed!" Cyrus explained, gripping the wheel.

"Then why the hell are we going straight for them?!"

"Playing a game of Chicken, mate!"

"What?!"

"Aim, Fox!" Cyrus shouted. " I'll give you a clear shot!"

Everyone's eyes widened, Cyrus focused as he ripped the car along on the highway toward the SUV. "GET DOWN!" Mulder shouted, seeing the car approaching them quickly. He leaned out of a window and fired several rounds into the tires and windshield, Cyrus clipping the back of the disabled SUV as he passed with a loud thud of metal crushing. He expertly spun the wheel in the opposite direction to avoid being controlled by the force he had impacted, the car swerving back onto their side of the road as the SUV remained behind them.

Doggett and Reyes slowly rose from their crouched positions in the back seat, Mulder next to them breathing heavily as he leaned back, catching his breath. "Cyrus," Scully said gently, her heart racing as she glanced at the young man as she was bent over. Cyrus cleared his throat, withdrawing his arm quickly from across Scully's back where it instinctively flew to protect her during the mayhem.

"Everyone alright?" Cyrus asked softly, swallowing as his eyes caught Mulder's in the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, think so," Reyes replied. "Who was that? Censure or Insurgence?"

"I think Insurgence," Cyrus said. He caught Mulder's small nod of assurance, feeling relieved. "Call it crazy, but we used to train like that," he explained.

"Train?" Doggett asked.

Cyrus nodded. "In case we were ever confronted by the Censure. Only … I was the only one stupid enough to go all the way when we did."

"Well," Mulder said, still leaning back against the seat, "stupid or not, you just saved our lives. Thank you."

Cyrus held Mulder's gaze for a moment before returning his eyes to the road. "My pleasure," he replied softly.

* * *

8:22 AM PST

"Jack! You in there?"

Will's eyes flew open, at first only seeing the mass of blonde hair in his eyes from Cara, who laid next to him. He carefully withdrew himself from her, smoothing her hair away and stood, hearing Michael's voice on the other side of the door. He opened it, looking down. "What's wrong, Michael?" he asked, worried.

"We're here, they just announced it. We shaved a day off of sailing time with good waters, or so they said … didn't you hear?" Michael asked.

"We're here as in ...?" Will asked.

"San Francisco," Michael replied, confused. "Where were you expecting?"

"Uh …"

"Probably the damn Captain just wanted to charge for longer than we'd be here," Michael grumbled, holding his bag. "Anyway, look, we're headed to Texas for the Insurgence." Michael's tone was soft as he spoke, keeping the conversation between him and Will. "Come with us," he offered.

"Michael, I don't know if the Insurgence is such a good idea," Will reasoned, not wanting to reveal too much sensitive information, unsure if what he even knew was true.

"Seriously?" Michael was confused, laughing at the absurdity. "So you want to be the Censure's bitch, then?"

"Listen, I just think it might not be what it's been cracked up to be."

Michael shook his head. "Well, I'm not hanging around for the Censure to make me their puppet." He moved toward the stairs, raising his eyebrows at Will. "Last chance?"

"Good luck," Will managed, giving Michael a nod. "Just … be careful."

"You too, man," Michael replied with a sigh, following his wife up the stairs and out of sight.

As Will watched, an unsettling feeling grew in his gut that he couldn't explain. It spread over him like a deadly infection, weakening him and making him unsure. He re-entered the cabin with purpose, stooping to the floor where Cara was laying. "Cara, wake up," he urged, stroking her face.

She stirred, catching his eyes as she woke. "What's wrong?" she breathed, fearing the urgency in his eyes.

"We're here," he replied. "We're docked in San Francisco."

"But … we still had another day or two!"

"Does it surprise you that we've not only been duped for cost but about travel time, too?"

Cara sat up, rubbing her eyes. "I just don't see how we could've made it in two days …"

"Come on," Will said over his shoulder as he zipped up their bags. "Let's get the kids up."

Cara stood, feeling wary about the situation as she woke Max and Emma. "Wake up, sweethearts," she cooed gently, seeing their eyes open with protest.

"Why Mommy?" Emma mumbled, still tired. Cara knew all four of them hadn't been sleeping well on the ship, the shift in their environment and schedule hitting the twins especially hard.

"We're in California," Cara said with a smile, watching Max sit up.

"But you said when we went to bed last night that we had one more day," Max yawned.

"Well …" Cara didn't know what to say. "I guess the ship was faster than we thought."

"Shoes on, guys," Will said as the kids slowly rose. "Come on, we've got to go."

"Will, they just woke up. Cut them a break," Cara chided as she knelt to slip on the twins' sneakers.

"We need to get off this boat, Cara," Will argued.

"What is wrong with you?" Cara asked, perplexed. "Why are you so jumpy?"

"I'm not jumpy," Will defended, slinging the bags over his shoulders as he took Emma into his arms, the tired little girl resting against his chest with her head on his shoulder.

"Yes, you are," Cara argued, sweeping Max into her arms as Will opened the door.

"Look, I just want to get out of here, alright?" Will walked ahead with Emma, Cara confused as she followed. She knew Will was feeling something but was denying it both to her and himself. She didn't want to argue; she had done enough of that with him lately. All she wanted to do was leave the damp, dingy third level of the ship to finally stand on some warm, sandy beaches.

As they processed, Cara directly behind Will, behind a large mass of people off of the boat and down toward the dock, Cara felt Max stiffen in her arms. "What's wrong, Max?" she asked, clutching him protectively.

"Mommy …" Max murmured, yanking on Cara's shirt.

Cara became distracted as she was shoved aside by a few other passengers, nearly being knocked into the wall of the ship as she tried to follow Will, who now slipped out of sight. "Hey! Watch it!" she snapped as she regained her balance. "Will!" she called, clinging onto Max as her eyes darted around, unable to see Will or Emma through the thickening wall of humans that carelessly plowed through her. "Will!"

"Mommy!" Max cried, startling Cara.

"It's okay, baby," she whispered, her eyes still on the crowd, trying to get her voice to carry over the loudness of the people and the dock. "Will!" she yelled, her heart racing when she neither saw him nor heard him respond. "WILL!" She was now frantic, gripping Max to herself as she tried to force her way through the crowd. "Max, talk to Daddy!" she urged breathlessly.

"I can't, Mommy!" Max whispered.

Cara froze. "What do you mean?" She stood still, feeling her back and shoulders being rammed into by people and bags, but she was unable to move, the terror grounding her.

"I'm too scared to, Mommy," Max said, his eyes welling with tears.

"Oh, baby, we'll find Daddy and Emma," Cara assured, continuing to walk.

Max shook his head. "No, Mommy …" The boy breathed quickly, panic on his face. "I mean because the bad men are here. They'll hurt us."

Cara's lips parted, her eyes darting out to analyze the crowd, swallowing to wet her quickly-dried throat. Will was still nowhere to be seen. Her heart beat with intensity as she managed to push through to the open air, feeling the backs of the people still around her as she walked right into someone who had frozen in place.

Before she could apologize, her eyes saw the reason why the other passengers had stopped so abruptly. She gasped, feeling her blood run cold as she saw the automatic rifles aimed into the crowd by the Censure's army.


	11. Chapter 10

_the song "Is There Anyone Out There" and its lyrics belong to Delta Rae_

* * *

CHAPTER 10

Members of the Censure's army, a coalesced law-enforcement group composed of replacements from the police and military known as Censurians, could be distinguished by their gold new-order-crested emblem navy blue long-sleeved jumpsuits that were marked with utility pockets. Around their waists were wide belts that carried other weapons, ammunition, syringes of sedatives and possibly even the virus, though the idea of the last was pure speculation. Though one could make out some distinguishing features of their faces, their eyes were always covered with thick, dark-lensed shield glasses that wrapped completely around their heads, making what they looked at a constant mystery.

To most, the Censure was viewed as an organization of peacekeepers, heroes and saviors of a distraught world, their responsibility regarding the virus nor their authority were questioned because of the safety those who obeyed found in their compliance. A middle ground of people didn't believe the Censure's involvement in the mass infection of the people but still feared the overt control they displayed. These people weren't willing to outright defy them but chose instead to hide, buying time in silence while knowing if push came to shove, they would cave and submit themselves. There were few, however, convicted of fighting, regardless of the cost, against the horrific truth - that the Censure was organized in the depths of hell itself with Lucifer in the lead.

Cara found herself standing among a group of mainly the first type of people - the sheep who followed the Censure blindly. An eerie quiet had possessed the crowd, wide eyes not seeing the danger in the methods the men above them on platforms were using. "We're looking for William Mulder!" one Censurian shouted, skimming over the crowd through dark glasses. Cara shook as she clutched Max, trying to shield herself behind the people in front of her, hoping she and Max couldn't be seen from the Censurian's vantage point. "William Mulder!" he yelled again. "By lawful order of the Censure, show yourself!"

"Don't speak," Cara whispered into Max's ear while the Censurian was shouting, masking her voice under his.

The Censurian leaned to the other next to him, muttering something in his ear, then taking a piece of paper, holding it up. Will's face was printed on it in black and white. "We are looking for this man," the Censurian declared, slowly moving the paper in front of the people closest to him. "Claim a reward for valid information on William Mulder's whereabouts," he offered, his lips thin as they pressed together, glaring at the crowd.

"He wasn't on the boat!" Cara heard someone in the crowd say.

"Step forward," the Censurian asked as other uniformed replacements descended into the crowd, one guiding the man up closer, who Cara recognized to be Michael from Will's logging job. "You didn't come here with this man?" the Censurian asked, his voice still loud enough for most of the crowd to hear.

"No," Michael replied.

"Are you sure?"

"... Yes."

The Censurian eyed Michael, giving a small nod to the uniformed replacement standing with him. The other Censurian on the ground shot a clean round into Michael's head, eliciting a gasp from everyone, including Cara, who immediately covered Max's eyes. An infant's cry pierced the air, the baby upset by the violent sound. "Lies won't serve any of you well. They are the seeds of suffering," the Censurian on the platform said cooly. "Hiding doesn't serve well, either," he added loudly, his words intended for Will. "So I suggest you show yourself, William Mulder!"

Another hush of silence washed over the crowd, the infant still crying from the loud shot that scared it. "He was on the boat," a person offered, catching the eye of the lead Censurian above them.

"Where is he now?" the Censurian asked.

"I … don't know. I just saw him pass."

Cara's heart stopped; her stomach lurched as she cowered down behind the person in front of her. "Search the crowd," she heard the Censurian order. He then turned to the people. "On your knees!" he demanded of the crowd. "We will begin a search immediately! Don't move! Remain on your knees!"

Like a congregation praying, the people fell to their knees in a wave, Cara dropping in horror as she squeezed Max to herself, shaking like an autumn leaf in a turbulent wind. She kept hers and Max's heads down; she could hear the booted gait of the Censurians approaching, her eyes filling with tears. "WAIT!" she heard Will shout. "Leave the people alone," he said as he stood without Emma, holding his hands up though Cara couldn't see it from the ground. The armed replacements on the ground froze; Cara could see one's boot next to her out of the corner of her eye, hearing him aiming his weapon at Will immediately.

The Censurian above the crowd stared at Will as the armed replacements crossed toward Will and shoved him forward; the others on the platform kept their weapons trained on the crowd that remained kneeling. Cara trembled. She wanted to scream and protect Will and Emma, but quivered as she kept low to the ground with Max. She felt like she died the instant she heard Will's voice in the crowd.

"Where are they?" the Censurian asked Will cooly between the two of them after he was dragged up to him. He slammed the end of his rifle across Will's face when he refused to answer. "I said, where are they?"

"I put them on a different ship," Will snapped, blood running from his lip. "You think I'd be stupid enough to travel with them?"

The Censurian examined Will's eyes, analyzing the merit behind Will's words. "Don't make me kill someone," he sneered. He struck him two more times with the end of the rifle. "Tell me where they are!"

"I told you," Will spat, "I put them on another ship!"

"What ship?"

"One bound for Seattle."

The Censurian glared at Will. "Kill everyone in the crowd," he ordered, keeping his eyes on Will, who registered the Censurian's orders with shock. "Use the gas," the Censurian barked, the other racing off to carry out his orders. "Now, unless you want to see everyone die, William, I suggest you tell me where they are."

As Will saw the Censurians ready the cans of toxic gas, he made a split second decision, using his power to take down as many Censurian guards as he could, including the one in front of him. The Censurians flew back several yards, knocking into the ground with force as Will dove into the crowd and grabbed Emma from where he hid her among the people, frantically searching for Cara and Max as he shielded their daughter. The mass chaos that grew in the crowd helped to conceal his path as he spotted Cara, gripping onto her and pulling her and Max with him. He rammed into people, tearing through the herd with madness as he tried to get Cara and the children to safety.

Seeing the impending danger, he shoved Emma into Cara's arms as he felt himself snagged by two Censurians who knocked him to the ground. "RUN!" Will shouted to Cara, wrestling with the guards above him, disarming them quickly. Cara fled, now carrying both children as she tore through the crowd to the outside perimeter. She looked back over her shoulder for Will, who she saw in the distance following. Suddenly, he was rammed in the back by a Censurian rifle. Her mouth dropped open in shock and horror, her feet skidding to a stop.

"Daddy says go!" Max pleaded. "He says go, he'll find us! Go! He says go!"

Cara caught Will's eyes; time seemed to move in slow motion as she looked into them, his head craning up from the ground to look at her. She saw his lips move, knowing the words that he spoke in silence to her, her eyes welling with tears as she watched him be beaten brutally down onto the ground by the Censurians, his face pressed to the earth as he screamed in rage against them. Cara's heart was instantly shattered, pain annihilating her soul as she fled with Max and Emma in her arms. The tears streamed down her face as she ran, mourning as she pressed the children to her in horrified shock and remorse.

She didn't know how long she ran or where she even was in the world besides San Francisco, soon finding herself in an alleyway where she came to a stop, hiding behind a rusted red dumpster as she panted. Max and Emma quivered in her arms, their sobs wracking their tiny frames as her own shook her, her tears mixing with her children's. Her heart was back on the dock, torn at the sight of Will being pummeled by the replacements. Her soul was left with his words _I love you_ he mouthed to her, with his eyes that continued to pierce through her even from the distance that separated them.

Cara didn't know how long they remained behind the dumpster, the children eventually becoming quiet in their grief and fear as she clutched to them with desperation. She knew she had to be strong for them, that she was all they could rely on right now. She had no earthly clue where to go or what to do, knowing she had absolutely no money or any means to get any, nor any food for the kids, not to mention no idea how to reunite with Will. When Max said that Will had told her to go, she believed that through Max's gift, Will would find them. Should she remain behind the dumpster, then, and wait? Or should she keep running? The weight of the decision bore down on her, consuming her with each passing moment. "Max?" she whispered, still huddled on the ground with both of the children. "Can … can you hear Daddy?"

His long moment of silence frightened her. "No, Mommy," Max whispered. "I think Daddy's sleeping."

Cara nodded, her lip quivering as fresh tears ran down her face. "It's okay," she breathed through her cracking voice, kissing the boy on his head, then his sister. "We'll try again later."

* * *

Port of San Diego  
San Diego, CA  
9:09 AM PST

Cyrus and Mulder looked equally pissed as they stormed back to the SUV, each less than stellar with their ability to communicate where their disappointment had stemmed from. "What happened?" Reyes fished as she watched the two men climb back into the back seat on either side of Scully, seeing the anger in both of their eyes.

"No ships from the north come down to San Diego," Cyrus muttered, sinking into his seat.

"Do you know where they come to then?" Doggett asked.

"San Francisco," Mulder replied. "Which is eight hours at least from here."

"Alright, San Francisco it is."

"First," Mulder interrupted, "we should eat something. Besides, I want to see if William was able to write back."

They ended up parked in front of an abandoned motel near the coast, Cyrus, Doggett and Reyes nibbling on the bits of food still left from what was swiped from the camp. They were waiting for Mulder and Scully to finish charging the laptop battery while they checked on their email.

Cyrus wasn't very hungry at the thought of his sister and her children still so out of reach, though. He climbed out of the car, sighing as he processed toward the beach, jamming his hands in his pockets as he stared out at the ocean.

They still had well over eight hours until they were even in the right area of the port Will and Cara were coming in to, or so they hoped. They had no way of confirming what ship or what time, each of them feeling helpless when they thought of the situation they were in. Scully had mentioned something about failing to communicate with Will despite her best efforts; Cyrus wasn't aware of her possessing such a power, chalking it up to a mother-son connection that went beyond natural reasoning. Email was their only hope, their only bridge between them. A while later, Cyrus caught the way Mulder grumbled in anger as he left the motel with Scully, sighing deeply as he figured out that no letter was received from Will.

They proceeded to drive up the coast on Interstate Five North, reaching just north of Bakersfield a few hours later before needing to refill the tank with gas. The selection of stations to choose from was slim - most were still manned, which was surprising. However, the ones that were had raised prices to an obscene twenty-five dollars per gallon. Between the five of them, they coughed up enough to fill the tank, Cyrus shelling out the most money because he was the one with the most of it left.

As they drove off with choice words under their breath for the station attendant, Cyrus stared out of the window, running his fingers over his stubbled, unshaven chin. "Don't suppose anyone else is realizing that if we do, in fact, make it to San Fran on this tank that our options just became a lot more limited?" he posed, absentmindedly feeling his growing beard. The freshness of living without luxuries such as showering and coffee was still with him; he knew everyone was in the same boat, but he still felt uncomfortable for not having showered in a while.

"He's right," Scully agreed. "We're out of cash. How much do you guys have left, John?"

"Just about fifty."

"Cyrus?"

"A hundred and twenty … two," Cyrus replied as he counted the bills, folding up his wallet. He heard Mulder sigh as he drove. "Well, looks like it's about time we start becoming like the rest of the world, eh?"

"We're running low on bullets, too," Mulder grumbled.

"Perfect," Cyrus muttered.

"Think we can make it to San Francisco on this tank, Mulder?" Doggett asked.

"I'm hoping. How many more miles, Scully?" Mulder asked.

"Just about two hundred," Scully replied, tracing her finger over the wrinkled map.

"Yeah, she'll make it," Cyrus said with a nod. "Last I checked, these cars did about five hundred and twenty kilometers on a tank."

"So that's about a hundred and twenty-five miles left after we get there," Reyes concluded.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I guess we'll all have to wait to become grand larcenists," Mulder joked.

"Actually, Mulder, we still might have to once we get there," Scully objected. "After all, we can't fit four more people in here. Not the children safely, anyway."

The car grew silent. "Scratch that," Mulder murmured. "Prepare to live out Grand Theft Auto in approximately four hours."

* * *

1:02 PM PST

_Days they pass too quickly  
__And nights they don't offer enough sleep  
__My body doesn't fit me  
__My dreams are like great ships lost at sea_

_And this heart grows tired_

The darkness had enveloped Will earlier, unconsciousness befalling him as he was beaten mercilessly by the replacements upon his capture, his last thoughts of and sight being her as he slipped under. He seemed to come to without haste, his body weaker than usual, pain radiating throughout his joints. _Magnetite,_ he thought angrily, remembering how he had been injected just before being knocked out. His eyes opened slowly to find himself still surrounded by darkness. He tried moving, bound and gripped by Censurians, he assumed, as he was led blindly, his feet stumbling as they dragged him.

_So far from where I started  
__And so far from where I want to be_

He wasn't sure where he was, but he had an idea he wasn't far from where he started. Censurians dictated justice in every state now. Will had heard that their methods of discipline to rebels often were inhumane and violent, though those that followed them were too afraid to question the raw nature of public abuse of those who went against Censure Law. Will knew he was being made a prime example for the people of what not to do, whatever he was about to endure intended to scare people into submission while brainwashing them into believing what they saw was for their benefit. Should they fail to kill him right here, he knew he would soon be taken back to the Smoking Man who would most certainly ensure his death.

_The towers I watched when I was young  
__Are not as tall as I once believed_

_And this heart grows tired_

Forced to his knees, Will's chest was slammed against a pillar that made his body reel in pain upon contact, several pounds of thick chains laced around him as his tee shirt was torn halfway down from the neck, his broad shoulders and upper back exposed. He knew what he was now chained to must have been made at least partially with magnetite. He felt his physical self being tortured by the burn of the stone and he tried to pull away from it but failed to.

_Is there anyone out there?  
__You know me  
__I am the son_

Will felt the hood he was forced to wear being ripped off of his head. The light revealed sharply to him hurt his eyes; they teared upon exposure. He hazily saw the mass of people in the far distance that were forced to witness what was about to be said and done, their thin, sallow faces wrought with fear and submissiveness.

_Of a lost country, of a new world  
__And we're born to run _

_and we never look back_

"This man has violated every moral decency that we, the Censure, have tried to uphold in such times of turmoil and uncertainty," Will heard the Censurian who led the initial manhunt say, pacing just out of his view. "William Mulder has no sense of honor or respect of the very laws that are set in place to protect him."

_Children born tomorrow  
__May never know the language we speak_

"The Censure doesn't protect!" Will shouted despite his pain. He knew he had to fight with not only his physical strength but with the power of truth should he want to try to rally the people together.

_The wisdom that they borrow  
__Will hint at something buried too deep_

If they wanted him to be an example, Will was going to make sure they would never forget his contribution. This was his destiny, to carry the fire of change. "They're responsible for the destruction and devastation of every man, woman and child - your family, your loved ones - through the virus that has killed them!" Will yelled.

_But we carry the fire  
__We carry the fire  
__We carry the fire_

Will groaned when he felt the crack of a large, thick leather whip across his back, a gasp bubbling over the crowd. He knew it was because of the magnetite he was chained to and injected with that the assault felt so brutal, his body weakened and vulnerable.

_Is there anyone out there?  
__You know me  
__I am the son_

"Do you see?" the Censurian asked, still pacing while another lingered behind Will with the whip. "He wishes to fill your heads with lies because of his cowardice and indecency."

"The only cowards are these _things_ in front of you that you've given power!" Will spat to the crowd, his head sinking as the whip cracked over him again. The leather gouged his back, his body failing to heal the skin that was torn and bleeding.

_Of a lost country, of a new world  
__And we're born to run _

_and we never look back_

"He's a convicted murderer," the Censurian continued. "An escaped prisoner who was far too cowardly to face his just sentence for his unspeakable crimes. So he ran ..." The Censurian looked at Will, who tried to lunge forward to him but was stopped by a third lashing, falling against the pole in pain. "He kidnapped an innocent woman who he raped and nearly killed, getting her pregnant and then running off with her, forcing her into working in the dangerous barter system that the Censure has worked tirelessly to eliminate for your protection." Another crack of the whip over Will's bloodied back seemed to echo through the open space, Will's cries of pain growing louder and desperate. "The only coward I see here is William Mulder."

_(And we never look back)  
__Oh, when we were young, we never knew_

_(And we never look back)  
__The pain that lay beyond, but then we grew_

The lead Censurian crossed toward Will, who slumped in agony against the magnetite, his face, chest and hands burned from the stone. Two more Censurians pressed Will fully against the pillar while the lead one grabbed Will's left wrist, examining the weathered braid bracelet he wore. "Let William Mulder be a reminder to you of the evil the Censure is trying to protect you from," he shouted to the people who witnessed the event.

_(And we never look back)  
__And all my heroes they were strange  
__But we all just want to be the same_

He took out a large knife, threw open the blade and sliced the bracelet off of Will's wrist. Will writhed in protest underneath the two replacements who, along with the led Censurian, seemed immune to the magnetite that he was bound to. He screamed at the Censurian who pocketed the bracelet with a knowing smile.

_(And we never look back)  
__But who will lead us when they are gone?  
__Who will save us when the wrong ones have won?_

"These men promise you everything yet give you nothing!" Will yelled to the crowd, seeing the eyes of the people on him through the sweat that dripped from his brow. "Do they give you safe food to eat? Medicine to treat the illness that has killed so many? Do they protect you, or just try to scare you into silence? Into compliance?"

Will endured two more lashings, but his adrenaline that flowed through him kept his voice loud. "They lie and steal from you! They take what is rightfully yours! They've made deals with hell itself, sacrificing your lives for their own personal gain and benefit!"

_Is there anyone out there?  
__You know me  
__I am the son_

Another lashing; Will moaned in suffering, his breathing becoming labored. He fought to keep his voice strong. "How long will you accept living to serve rats?" The whip snapped over him again. "How long will you blindly follow these demons into your own death?"

_Is there anyone out there?_

Again, then again the whip sliced his skin. "Stand against them!" Will's voice was strained, tormented.

_Is there anyone out there?_

Will's body trembled as he tried to summon his strength to break free, the whip finding his back and digging into the wounds even deeper. "Take back your lives! TAKE BACK YOUR FREEDOM! FIGHT BACK!"

_Is there anyone out there?_

A murmur rose through the crowd, seeming to grow louder and stronger very quickly. The Censurians were far outnumbered by the people, but Will knew their inhuman strength was still an advantage. It was clear, however - Will had gotten his message across. He focused on pulling on the chains, feeling like he was merely inches within his own life, his grip on physical existence loosening rapidly. Will was surprised when he felt one chain snap from his efforts, his left arm flying forward, his right quickly following as he bolted on weakened, rubber-like legs in the direction Cara left in earlier.

People screamed as the Censurian rifles were aimed and fired at Will, he managing to dodge through all but one magnetite bullet that implanted itself into his arm. The pain radiated through him with agonizing torture, but he kept running, only pausing when he realized what had happened behind him, the threat that had pursued him now absent. A sea of people, those who witnessed his public sentencing, consumed the square and attempted to overtake the Censurians on his behalf. He was shocked - the people were fighting back. Will had become the face of the rebellion.

"Kid!" Will heard a man call in the distance, a set of car keys tossed in his direction by an older man who nodded to him after he picked them up. "Go. Get out of here." He saw Will's hesitation, the way his bloodied body froze in doubt.

"What about you?" Will breathed, gripping the keys with the last of his strength.

"I've lived my life," the old man insisted. "It's time for you to live yours so others may live as well."

Will turned back to the crowd, hearing the screams of the people behind him, seeing the war he had started. It horrified him. "Go! Go find your wife and children!" the old man ushered him on. Will turned back to look at him. "You've given the people the will to fight," the man said. "Now, go lead the way, William Mulder."

In shock, Will saw the old man move as fast as he could from the place he had been hiding, throwing himself on a Censurian that nearly attacked Will. "GO! GO!" the old man shouted as he wrestled with the replacement. Will watched the Censurian shoot the old man, then aim for him. Though it pained him, he managed to knock him down with what was left of his force, running as fast as he could to the waiting SUV. The engine roared to life as he twisted the keys in the ignition, spinning the wheel and slamming on the gas, the car carrying him away from what he knew would be only the first of many massacres.

* * *

1:33 PM PST

Every sound made her jump, every breeze that brushed her hair across her skin instantly put her on edge. Cara's nerves were frayed and shot; she couldn't find any courage or will to do anything for hours besides hold Max and Emma tightly to herself as they cowered behind the dumpster, swaying her body as she fell deeper into the darkness of her fears. "Mommy?" Emma whispered; Cara felt the way she struggled to move under her terrorized grip.

"Yes, Emma?" she replied, her eyes fixed on their surroundings.

"When is Daddy coming?"

Cara took a quaking breath. "I don't know, baby." Her hand that was pressing Max to herself began to stroke the boy. "Do you hear Daddy yet?" she urged.

"Not yet," Max murmured, his face still nuzzled into Cara's shirt.

"It's okay," Cara whispered, exhaling as she chewed her bottom lip.

"I want to go home," Emma said sadly.

"Me too," Max agreed.

"Me three," Cara admitted.

"Can we go home now, Mommy?" Emma begged.

Cara nearly jumped when she heard the footsteps of someone in the distance. She quickly covered the twins' mouths with her hands, holding her breath as she heard the gentle stride that was barely detectable. Whoever it was was walking with grace and skill, not with heavy militant purpose. They were attempting to surprise whoever they were after, which Cara feared was her and the children. _Don't speak, _she thought quickly, knowing Max would hear her. _Tell Emma not to either. Stay right here. Do not move. No matter what, do not move until Mommy gets you, okay?_

_Don't leave, Mommy! _Max pleaded in silence, forgetting his mother couldn't hear him.

* * *

Miles away, though, Will heard the words his son spoke in his mind as he drove frantically away from the Censurians who managed to pursue him. _Max! _he thought with hope though he was in great pain. W_here are you? Where are you, Emma and Mommy?_

* * *

Before Max could tell Cara that Will had spoken to him, she had moved away from them, concealing herself as she channeled her training as a police officer. She clutched the large triangle of glass she found on the ground in between her index and middle fingers of her right hand, readying herself to strike whoever was approaching.

* * *

_Daddy!_ Will heard Max plead. _There's someone trying to find us! Hurry!_

_Max, where are you? _he begged.

_Behind a big red trash can. _

_Keep talking to me, Max! Where is Mommy?_

_She's trying to fight someone._

_Who, Max?_

_I don't know._

Will panted in fear. _Stay hidden, stay quiet. Keep Emma safe. Keep talking to me._

* * *

The person was close, now. She could feel their presence just around the edge of the dumpster where she lingered. She clamped down on the triangular weapon in her hand, her focus on protecting her children. Saying a small prayer, she waited for just the right moment, leaping into view as she tackled the large, brown-skinned man who had been approaching, pinning him face down as she pressed the dirty glass against the side his neck.


	12. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

"Don't move!" Cara ordered, securing the man as she pushed the glass closer against his neck.

"Shima!"

She froze when she heard the familiar voice, her grip still tight from fear. Her heart was hopeful, though, and her fingers found the shirt material at the back of the man's neck, yanking it down to reveal bare, clean skin.

"Shima, rest easy," Shilah Hosteen said under her as Cara quickly stood, Shilah following suit, facing her.

"Oh my God, Shilah!" Cara murmured, wrapping her arms around the man, her face incidentally burying into his long, dark braid that was draped over his shoulder.

"You're shaking," Shilah said, trying to soothe Cara with gentle strokes on her back. Cara dropped the piece of glass with a quiver, clinging onto Shilah. "What has frightened you so much?"

"The Censurians," Cara breathed. Her eyes widened and she pulled herself abruptly away from Shilah, rushing toward where Max and Emma were hiding. "It's okay," she murmured, taking them both into her arms, kissing their faces. "Come on," Cara urged, taking their hands as she guided them toward Shilah.

Shilah was stunned as he examined the twins. "These are not the same children," he stated with confusion.

Cara nodded. "Yes, they are," she replied. "This is Max." She smoothed the boy's wild hair tenderly. "And this is Emma." She wrapped her arm around the little girl who looked up intently at the large, brown-skinned man in front of them.

"But … how? They are only nine months old! Yet … these children are years old."

"Will's genetics were altered," Cara explained. "We think the growth serum he was administered carried through in a way." She focused on the twins. "Max, Emma … this is a good friend of Mommy's and Daddy's," she said softly. "His name is Shilah."

"Hi," Shilah said gently, coming down to their level. They didn't reply; they were exhausted from fear, their hands clawing at Cara's legs. Shilah felt Max's invasion into his mind as he had once with Will when he first met him. "He is gifted like Young Fox," Shilah said to Cara, standing. "Only, his gift is stronger."

Cara nodded. "Shilah," she began, confused, "how in the hell did you find us?"

"My heart told me you were near, Shima," Shilah murmured. "The spirit of Changing Woman spoke to me."

"I thought she left me a long time ago," Cara mumbled.

Shilah shook his head with a smile. "She's still very much in you, Shima. John also had a vision," Shilah explained. "Our settlement was burned down a while ago by the lawless men. We were able to escape, though our pride kept us there longer than it should have. Fox and Dana left to take the attention away from us, but it was too late. Soon after they left, the lawless men lit fires all around Shiprock."

"Where are you all now?"

"We've moved to a neighboring settlement in Arizona. That's when John had the vision."

"But … how did John know …"

Shilah's lips pressed together as he inhaled. "He saw much terror and violence on the San Francisco docks on this day," he murmured. "He saw the faces of many crying out in rebellion. He knew Young Fox would be their leader. John saw him suffer much because of his bravery."

Cara swallowed. "I don't know where he is," she trembled, clutching the children to her hips.

"Daddy talked to me," Max finally said, surprising Cara.

"What did he say?" she asked.

"He said that you shouldn't be attacking strange men."

Cara closed her eyes, a small laugh escaping despite her fear. "Where is he, Max?"

"He's driving a car."

Cara gripped the twins' hands, walking quickly to the opening of the alley, Shilah following protectively alongside her. "Tell Daddy that we are on Barton Street … near a liquor store."

Max's brow wrinkled. "Bar … tin Street?"

Cara smiled understandingly at him. "I'm sorry, baby. Why don't we spell it for Daddy? Mommy will tell you the letters, okay? And you tell Daddy each letter I say. How does that sound?"

"Okay," Max smiled in relief.

Cara proceeded to spell out the letters slowly for Max to tell Will through his mind, telling Max that they were near a store that sold different drinks. She and Shilah waited in anticipation, Max finally speaking up. "Daddy said he is coming," Max said proudly. "He said that he has a big blue car." Max then frowned. "I think Daddy is sad, Mommy," he said softly.

"Why do you think that, baby?" Cara asked.

"Well … when I cry, I sound sad. That's how Daddy sounds."

"I'm sure Daddy is okay," she reassured. "You can give him a big hug when you see him, okay?"

"Okay," Max said happily.

* * *

They waited, Cara feeling more impatient than the two small children at her feet. She heard how Shilah spoke sweetly to them, his Navajo stories colorful in detail to distract their little minds from the cruel reality around them. The twins seemed to take a liking to Shilah, which gave Cara relief that they felt safe. She would only feel alright once she was able to hold Will, to kiss him, to tell him how much he meant to her. Until then, she didn't feel safe at all.

What seemed like forever finally came to an end, a large dark blue SUV rolling to a stop near the liquor store that was outside of the alley they had stayed in. Cara grabbed the childrens' hands, her heart racing as she didn't see Will move from the driver's seat. "Get in," she ushered them, grateful for Shilah's help as he secured the children as best as he could without the proper seats.

Cara nearly fell over in shock as she climbed into the passenger seat in the front, seeing only part of Will's horrific condition. "Oh my God," she murmured, trembling as she touched his face carefully. Will kept his head against the headrest, his breathing strained. "Shilah!" she yelled. "We need to get him in the back now!"

Seeing Will's state for the first time, Shilah's eyes widened as he bolted to the driver's side, opening the door and hoisting Will's weak, bloody body over his shoulder with a groan, Will much larger than Shilah. With every ounce of strength he had, Shilah rested him on his stomach in the back of the SUV, Will's legs cramped and folded as Shilah shut the trunk. "Can you get us out of here?" Cara asked Shilah, who nodded, wordlessly filling the driver's seat. She climbed into the trunk area with Will, forced to one spot on her knees next to him, panickingly hovering her hands over his torn flesh. "What did they do to you?" she breathed, unsure where she could find the medicine necessary to treat him.

"I want to see Daddy!" Max said, pulling at his seat belt.

"Sit still, Max!" Cara ordered.

"Mommy, is Daddy okay?" Emma asked.

"Daddy will be just fine, Emma."

She paused. "Wait, Will … why aren't you healing?" she whispered with fright, realizing he must have been dosed with magnetite in order for his body to be so weak. "Shilah!" she shouted. "Do you have any of the herbs Will used to take at the settlement?"

"No," Shilah said regretfully. "Only at the new settlement in Arizona."

_Shit, shit, shit. _Cara looked back down at Will, who was nearly motionless as he laid on the rocking floor of the trunk. "Mommy," Emma whispered.

"Not now, Emma," Cara interrupted, feeling bad for her short temper that seemed uncontrollable as she lingered on the edge of sanity.

"But Mommy-"

"Emma, not now," Cara said firmly, keeping her eyes on Will. "Shilah, get us to somewhere with running water!" she ordered.

"Already on it," Shilah replied, turning into a vacant motel parking lot.

"Hang in there, Will," Cara urged, hearing Shilah racing from the driver's seat to find a room. She saw Will's lips moving, and she bent to listen.

"A war … I've started a war," he trembled through soft whispers.

"Shh," Cara soothed, her hand finding his sweat-slicked hair that was caked with dirt and blood. She heard Shilah open the trunk and watched him lift Will gingerly over his shoulder, carrying him away as she jumped out. "Max, Emma," she said quickly as she climbed into the back seat where the children were, "I need you to stay with Shilah, okay? Mommy has to take care of Daddy right now."

"Daddy has bad boo-boos," Emma noted softly.

Cara nodded. "Yes he does, sweetie." She unbuckled each of the children, guiding them out of the SUV in a hurry toward the motel, Shilah ushering them into the room through the open door. "Hey look, guys," Cara said in as chipper of a voice as she could muster, her eyes locked on Will, who was shirtless on his stomach on the bed. "Why don't you watch some TV, okay?" She moved the kids quickly away from the bed area before they could see Will's condition fully, flicking on the TV across the room and holding the remote in her shaking hand. It seemed to take forever to find an acceptable channel, Cara surprised that stations were still even manned though she assumed they wouldn't be for much longer.

She felt Shilah take the remote from her, knowing she was visibly shocked and quaking from the extent of Will's injuries. "Go," he said softly, "he's asking for you. I'll watch them."

Cara moved to Will's side, seeing the water and cloth Shilah had set on the nightstand. She felt nauseous as she stared at the multiple lashes across Will's broad back, the flesh torn so cruelly. She knew he had been whipped, the horror of what he endured rocking her at her core. She saw the small puncture wound in his upper right tricep, knowing it was the origin of the magnetite that was injected to weaken him so that he would truly suffer. "Will?" she whispered, dipping the cloth into the water, wringing it out as she watched his closed eyes, his face turned toward her. "Will, I need to clean you. I don't want you to get infected."

Will managed a grunt, his eyes still shut. With a gulp, Cara tenderly touched the wet fabric to Will's back, seeing the way his muscles instantly tightened in response, his face twisting into a suffered grimace. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes watering as she watched Will's reaction to her attempt to take care of him. Will's eyes remained tightly closed as Cara mopped the blood from his back with care.

All the carefulness in the world, though, couldn't stop the pain from searing through his body at her touch. "STOP!" Will growled in agony, taking a sharp breath through his mouth as his fists clenched the sheets. Cara's hand immediately froze, her tears escaping as she watched. She felt helpless, angry and scared. "I'm … sorry," he managed between labored breaths. "I … just …"

"Shh," Cara whispered, stroking his face. He winced and she realized the burns that were present from the magnetite. "Sorry," she murmured, withdrawing her hand. "Will, we have to get you clean. Otherwise, you'll get infected."

Cara felt a tug on her jeans, her eyes falling down to Emma. "Emma," she scolded, "you can't be here, okay?"

"But Mommy-"

"Emma, go watch TV!"

"Mommy, I-"

"She slipped away," Shilah mumbled, taking the little girl's hand. "Come on, let's go."

"NO!" Emma screamed, her eyes watering. "Mommy, listen!" she demanded, yanking her hand out of Shilah's. "I want to help Daddy!"

Cara felt the tears falling down her cheeks. "Emma Katharine, you march your butt over there right now, you hear?" she reprimanded. In response, Emma let out another piercing scream, Will reacting by trying to push himself up on his elbows. "No!" Cara said quickly, turning to Will. "Lay down!" She looked back at Emma, who had moved around to the other side of the bed out of reach, her hand hovering over Will's back as she reached on her tip toes. "EMMA!" she yelled, dropping the rag and leaning over Will to prevent Emma's fingers from making contact with the gory wounds, but she was too late. The little fingers made a feather-light connection with his skin before Cara gripped her wrist, pulling her away.

Cara paused, the scolding on her lips as she clutched Emma's hands, still leaning over the twin bed. Her lips parted as she witnessed the instant healing of the lashing mark on Will's back that Emma had touched. The skin sealed itself, the flesh returning to its normal color, no longer red and swollen. "Oh my God," Cara whispered. Shilah joined her at her side as she released Emma's hands in wonder and awe, her own fingers finding the smooth skin that was once a deep, sore gorge. "Emma," she breathed, looking at the little girl across from her. "How …"

"I can make Daddy better," Emma said softly, chewing on her bottom lip much like her mother did when she was nervous.

"Let her, Shima," Shilah encouraged softly, pulling Cara's hand away from the reach of the girl. "Let her use her power."

In silence they watched as Emma carefully touched each whip strike that had dug into Will's flesh, seemingly unphased by the blood and the graphic nature of what had happened to her father. Cara swallowed, hearing her daughter singing softly as her tiny fingers barely lingered on each wound, the healing immediately following her gesture. "Max!" Emma said, pausing her song. "I think Daddy needs you, too. I think he has stones in his tummy."

"Okay," Max said, running over to stand next to Cara, who was too shocked to do anything but move aside to allow her son more room. "Hi, Daddy," Max said with a smile as Will's eyes opened, his breathing more relaxed.

"Hi, Max," Will murmured.

"Do you have stones in your tummy?" the innocent boy asked.

"I have stones everywhere," Will replied gently.

"Okay," Max said. "Daddy, remember when I got a cut on my finger and you washed it for me?" Will nodded gently. "Well … I'm going to wash the stones now, okay?"

Cara didn't know she had grabbed Shilah's hand, gripping it with intensity as she watched her children care for their father through her tears. Her heart was breaking yet healing, amazed at the power her children contained but afraid for their lost innocence. It was now a cruel world they were born into, those in charge without mercy or compassion. The people who governed would do anything to obtain such power over people, and the power that was so valuable was embodied in her offspring.

"There," Max said proudly, smiling. "I took the stones away, Daddy." Max looked at Emma. "Daddy has boo boos on his face," he noted, eying his sister.

"Okay," Emma said, still taking her time healing Will in the usual way she did things, with unhurried grace.

"Come on!" Max urged, he the more impatient of the two, curious by nature and quick to act.

"Alright!" Emma said with a huff, climbing onto the bed as Will sat up, nearly in perfect health aside from the burns on his hands, chest and face. Emma scooted herself between Will's legs, singing softly as she touched her father's chest, the burns instantly disappearing. She examined her father's hands, tracing over them as she sang. She then looked at Will, her green eyes sparkling as she smiled, her lips pressing on his burnt cheeks. "There!" she said with unmistakable pride. "All better!"

With plenty of tears of his own, Will immediately drew Emma and Max into his arms, wrapping them against his healed body as he showered them with kisses. He looked up, seeing Cara's distraught face, and held his hand out, gripping hers tightly as soon as she reached for him. He pulled her down onto the small bed, his hand tangling in her hair as he passionately kissed her. When they parted, he pulled her to his chest, Cara making a spot between Max and Emma, her tears wetting his skin.

Will's eyes found Shilah's; he could only manage a simple nod of thanks though his heart begged to tell him how much he appreciated his protection of his family. Shilah understood, though. With a genuine smile, he nodded back and slipped out of the front door, gently closing it behind himself to give the family some privacy.

"Emma," Cara breathed, sniffing away her tears. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you."

"It's okay, Mommy," Emma said sweetly, not seeming to hold any grudges.

"No, it's not," Cara insisted gently, taking Emma's hands into hers. "Mommy should have listened to you. I was scared, though. I was scared for Daddy."

Emma nodded. "I know."

"How did you know you could do that?"

Emma thought about it for a moment. "Well," she said softly, "one time when Max was playing outside, he got a boo boo. Then I kissed it, like you do, Mommy. And it made him all better."

_So she inherited Will's ability to heal for others, _Cara concluded. _And Max is immune to magnetite. Not only immune, but can fight it. _She closed her eyes, stunned by the revelations. _Incredible._

"Well," Will said with a crooked grin that made Cara want to cry all over again, "I'm sure glad I have the coolest and bravest kids in the world."

"Daddy," Emma murmured, playing with Will's long fingers, "why did you get hurt?"

Cara saw Will draw a breath in thought. "Because Daddy told the men who were doing wrong that they shouldn't do bad things," he replied gently.

"Did they listen, Daddy?" Max asked.

Will looked into Max's eyes. "I'm not sure. I hope they do, though." He looked up at Cara, remembering what he had said earlier about leading a war. Fear tore through him, realizing what could be lost because of the path he had chosen. The woman he loved, his son, his daughter. The three people who meant more to him than the air he breathed. He felt how naked his left wrist was, the anger flaring inside as he thought about how the bracelet was taken from him by a man who knew its immeasurable value. "If they didn't listen," Will concluded, holding Cara's gaze as he hugged the children to him tightly, "then Daddy will keep telling them until they do."

* * *

2:43 PM EST

The chamber was still hot when he rested the gun down on the desk, his eyes on the lifeless body at his feet that didn't bleed. He focused on the considerable-sized hole the magnetite-laden bullet had made into the man's head, lighting his new cigarette, snapping the lid to the Zippo closed. He contemplated the level of failure that had cost the man below him to lose his life, dragging on the stem with a less than satisfied demeanor.

He kept his back to the others as he exhaled, the smoke dancing around him. He took comfort in its unchanging odor and presence, a constant which he relied on for both his addiction and his security. Despite everything that had failed him in the past, the tar and nicotine never ceased to fill their particular void in himself. "End this rebellion immediately," he warned, clutching the cigarette thoughtfully, "or meet the same fate."


	13. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Port of San Francisco  
San Francisco, CA  
11:59 AM PST

"What in the bloody hell …?" Cyrus' jaw dropped, he being at a vantage point in the driver's seat to see the smoke rising in the distance as they drove toward the ship port.

"What is it?" Mulder asked, craning to see from the back seat.

"Fire," Scully whispered, sitting next to him.

Cyrus pulled over, parking the car so that they were out of sight of the nearby port. "What are you doing?" Doggett asked.

"Something's not right, mate," Cyrus whispered, shoving his seat belt aside and throwing the car door open, Mulder quickly following suit.

"Where are they going?" Reyes asked, alone in the front in the passenger's seat.

"I don't know," Scully said, undoing her seat belt, "but I think we'll want to follow." She quickly exited the car and caught up to Mulder and Cyrus, who were still as they examined the scene they could now see below at the bottom of the steep hilled street. "Oh my God," she breathed, shocked at the scene they saw unfolding.

Immediately, the stench hit their nostrils, each one of them covering their mouths to avoid losing the tiny bit of food they had consumed hours ago from the awful odor of burning flesh. Mounds of bodies, corpses piled on top of each other like timber instead of human life, were being set aflame with large torching guns held by uniformed Censurians. They heard Doggett and Reyes join them, but they were too sickened and stunned to speak. "What in the hell happened here?" Doggett murmured.

"It looks like almost the entire ship manifest of people," Reyes whispered.

"Mulder," Scully quivered, "what if they were …"

"No," Mulder immediate said, shaking his head as he grit his teeth. "No, they're not …"

"But-"

"Look," Cyrus interrupted, gesturing to the large magnetite pillar Will had been chained to earlier. "The chains are broken," he noted. A surprised smile spread across his face, a small exhale of relief accompanying it. "He's done it," Cyrus murmured, still staring at the pillar.

"Who's done what?" Doggett asked.

"William," Cyrus replied softly. He turned to Scully, still smiling. "He's done it. He's begun the rebellion."

Scully's eyes darted from Cyrus' to the gruesome scene below. "I don't … I don't understand …"

"Those brave people gave their lives because William set an example for them," Cyrus explained. "Look," he said, taking Scully and moving her in front of him. "See those chains? Broken. No ordinary man could've done that. And no replacement is about to do it either."

They each paused in solemn respect as another group of bodies were saturated with white-hot flames. "He's right," Mulder finally said, staring blankly ahead in thought. "William's alive. These people died to make sure he would live."

The five standing out of sight above the horrific war zone felt both elation at the revelation of Will's probable health and safety, as well as torment of the inhumane treatment of the people below them, grieving for their dignity lost to heartless aliens. Immediately, Cyrus' meager smile turned into a frown, his heart weighed down by the unanswered question of where Cara and the children were. Even if he was wrong about Will, it was clear Will could potentially survive the fire. However, there were less assured that Cara or the twins could.

"We can't stick around here," Cyrus finally said, swallowing back his worries. He turned to Scully. "Dana," he said softly, "you've got to try talking to William. It's our only chance at this point."

With a quick glance over to Mulder, Scully nodded in agreement, separating herself from the group. The rest boarded the car, Mulder keeping a watchful eye over Scully as she milled about nearby in silence. Each were encouraged when they saw her head suddenly lift, her body freezing midstream in her pace. Mulder bolted from the car and rushed toward her, carefully examining her. "You okay?" he asked softly.

"They're alive," she whispered. "He just told me they are at the Sunset View Motel off of Five South on the coast."

Grabbing her arm in careful urgency, Mulder and Scully rushed back to the car, the SUV barreling off in the direction of the motel the instant they were inside and relayed the message.

* * *

Sunset View Motel  
San Francisco, CA

Will expected the water from the sluggish showerhead to hurt on impact, forgetting the trauma to his body had been healed miraculously by his daughter and his son. Though his body was in perfect condition, the blood, dirt and sweat had dried and stuck to him, making him look as if he was still in massive pain. Reluctantly, he agreed to take a shower under Cara's advisement, knowing she was right when she insisted he would feel better once he did.

He spent more time than necessary under the spray of the water, recycled liquid mixing with saline as he silently wept under the drench. He went through the motions, washing both his body and hair with the tiny bit of soap he could find, his thoughts far away from the relief the cleansing brought. When he closed his eyes, he saw the faces of the people as he was being whipped, their horror evident even through his strained gaze. His right hand ran over his left wrist as he washed his arms, immediately reminding him of the valuable symbol he had so cruelly been robbed of. Though he was more grateful to have the three people the bracelet represented alive, safe and well, he ached at the precious cords being severed from him against his will. He would take them back, he promised himself. The Censurian who stole them knew how much they meant to him. Will was determined not to let the replacement have the satisfaction of the victory for much longer.

He heard her gentle knock on the door as he shut off the water, hoping his eyes weren't as red as they felt from his tears and stress. "Come in," he murmured, unconcerned with his state of undress as he pulled back the curtain, toweling himself off.

"I brought in your jeans," Cara said softly, closing the door and keeping her eyes off of Will and onto the neatly folded, yet blood-stained jeans she brought in. "The shirt was a lost cause."

"Well," Will said, wrapping the towel around his lower half as he stepped out of the shower, "I suppose I'll fit into the California scene by going shirtless, won't I?" His humor was weak; she knew it as much as he did.

For whatever reason, Cara could only manage a nod before she turned to leave. Will caught her wrist, surprising her. She met his eyes hesitantly. His grip was secure but loving. "Talk to me," he whispered. His state of undress, proximity and position in relation to her instantly reminded him of when he nearly attacked her mouth with his last January in another motel. The look in her eyes was far different, though.

"I …" Cara shook her head, unable to follow through.

"Tell me," Will urged, still holding her wrist against the wall she was backed into as he tipped up her face by her chin.

"I left you," she breathed with a shudder. "I left you there, Will! I left you behind! I …" She was shaking from her tears she tried to hold back.

Immediately he drew her to himself, wrapping his arms around her and kissing his favorite spot on the side of her neck where it connected with her shoulder. "You didn't leave me," he assured, his lips light as the fluttered over her skin. "I told you to go. You needed to keep the kids safe."

"Will, you're my husband … you were my partner! And I left you!"

"Listen to me," Will said with loving firmness, "you did the right thing." He pulled her away, seeing the resistance to his suggestion in her. "You did, Cara," he repeated. "You did the right thing."

"I thought I lost you," she admitted, releasing the tears in a sob she buried in his firm, bare chest. He held her close, stroking her blonde waves as he shut his eyes, knowing he had been equally as scared to think he'd never see her again, too.

"I told you I'd find you," he chose to say instead, choosing to remain strong for her so she could let the burden of guilt and worry go. "You did the right thing, Cara." He held her for a while, his hands wandering over the curves and edges of her body as he buried his face in her hair. "I'm here now," he whispered. "I'm sorry you were so scared. I wish … I wish you never had to go through any of this."

Cara pulled away, looking into Will's eyes as her hand found his stubbled cheek. "I'll do it all again if it means being with you," she replied.

He knew what she was implying. "They need a leader, Cara," he breathed, his tone darkening with the weight of the serious reality.

She smiled halfway, her fingers rearranging his still-damp hair. "There's no one better for the job than you."

He was pained as he looked down at her, his mind rushing over the yet unknown possibilities of what his choice meant for her, for Max, for Emma and for his parents. He captured her wrist that was attached to the hand that was in his hair, pulling it toward him and pressing his lips on the tender flesh. "Think about what you're saying," he begged, knowing she knew the gravity of her choice to support him but hoping to change her mind. "Just because this is my destiny … it doesn't mean it's yours."

She was taken back by his words. "Will," she said softly, feeling his lips linger over her wrist, "I'm not leaving you."

Will shook his head. "I can't … I can't bear the thought of the possibilities, Caraline," he breathed with a shiver, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I'm _not_ leaving you, Will," she insisted, her voice firming up.

"This isn't like before," he argued softly. "This is _war_, now. War, Cara." He shook his head. "I won't let you stay."

"Will, this isn't your choice," she argued back, beginning to feel defensive. "Besides, we're stronger together and you know it."

"I refuse to let you or the kids stay," Will dictated.

She pulled her wrist away from him. "And I refuse to leave," she retorted. "Will," her voice was confused, "why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep trying to protect me?"

"Because I care about you, Cara!" Will snapped.

"Then let me fight with you," she snapped back. "If you love me, then let me live _my_ destiny."

"This isn't-"

"YES, WILL!" Cara shouted. "THIS … This _right here_, _this_ is my destiny. This is what I chose. I chose _you_, Will. YOU! That means I chose _everything_ about you, including this." She paused, searching his eyes. "I'm not hiding, Will. I'm standing by you until I can't stand anymore."

"What about Max and Emma?" Will asked, feeling his pulse elevate with his fear and anger at Cara's stubbornness.

"What about them?"

"They need a parent, Cara!" Will said with a exasperated gruff.

"And they'll have _two_," Cara said firmly back. "Two who will show them what life is meant for - to live, not to hide!"

"No," was all Will could managed, feeling like he was ready to explode.

"Will, where would you be right now without the help of others?" Cara asked angrily. "People gave their lives so you could fight. A man gave everything he had to help you escape. Shilah risked his life trying to find us, to find you. Max and Emma … your children used their power to _save your life_!"

"NO!" Will yelled, knowing he caught the attention of his children, whose murmured voices immediately silenced on the other side of the door. "I WON'T DO THIS TO YOU! I WON'T LOSE YOU!"

The tension was heavier than the humid air that settled around them from the shower Will had taken, each locked into their viewpoints with unmovable conviction. Cara heard the front door to the room open, the familiar voices of Mulder and Scully speaking quietly with Shilah. "We're done here," Will stated, his jaw locked as he stared down at Cara.

"I'm not," Cara replied, eying him before she headed for the door. She felt her wrist caught by his powerful hand again, this time trying to yank free. He refused to let her go. "Let go of me," she warned. She was beyond irritated when he didn't. "I said, let go, Will," she growled, still fighting against him.

"No," he said softly, catching her eyes. His other hand found her other wrist, grabbing it tightly. He quickly pressed her against the wall, closing the gap between them as he secured her wrists at the sides of her head up against it. He kissed her forcefully, the anger still surging through him though his resistance had crumbled from what she said. He knew she was right, but it killed him to think about what might be for her should she follow him into battle. She resisted at first, but then allowed her anger to subside when she realized he was relinquishing his control, facing his fear of what was to come in the immediate future.

The kiss grew and morphed, each feeling the pain the other exposed, each baring more rawness of their fears as they embraced. Will tried to part from Cara only to return to her lips twice more, feeling as if he couldn't have enough of her in that moment. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he heard voices other than their childrens' or Shilah's. Yet, everything became covered in a rich fog of lust, the torment he felt from fearing he'd never be able to taste her again as his back was sliced into nearly a dozen times surfacing. "Will," he heard her breathe in much a way that drove him deeper into his blur, his lips traveling with express tickets southbound on her skin. "Will, your parents … outside …" She was a more than willing prisoner of his as he braced her onto the wall, but she knew she had to be the stronger one. Will was attempting to lose himself in her, and she knew it. It was his comfort, his reassurance. She needed to deny him of it for now, though. He would have to remain in his mind for a while longer. She moved abruptly away, seeing him breathing deeply. "Will …" she whispered, catching her breath. "Your parents …"

She saw the words register in his eyes; it had been so long since either of them saw Mulder or Scully. Simultaneously, they remembered the kids and Will scrambled to put his boxers and jeans on, though dirty against his freshly-washed skin. When he buckled his belt, Will took Cara's hand and led her out of the bathroom, his brown hair dried in a haphazardly frenzied posture.

She felt Will's grip tighten when he saw his mother and father, and she willingly pulled her hand away, slipping into the back corner of the room where the TV was lurking on, embracing the two small children watching it. "Come on," she whispered, "let's go see Grandpa and Grandma."

"Really?" Max said with wide eyes, too absorbed in the cartoon to take in the thoughts of his paternal relatives who had just arrived.

"Yeah, really," Cara said with a smile, flicking off the TV.

"I'm scared," Emma admitted softly.

"Don't be," Cara soothed, her hand stroking her daughter's cheek.

"What if they don't like me?" Emma whispered.

Cara shook her head. "That's absolutely impossible, Emma," she replied. "Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you're the best little girl in the entire world."

"Come on!" Max urged, tugging on Cara's hand as he dragged her toward Shilah, who stepped aside to give Mulder and Scully a better look at the twins.

Both Mulder and Scully froze in shock at the sight of them; Emma clung to Cara's leg with hesitation while Max walked over with a smile. "Hi," he said with the bright assertiveness of a child, sticking his small hand out to Mulder, "I'm Maddox William Mulder. You're my grandpa, so you can just call me Max."

Will grinned as he stood off to the side, watching the interaction between Max and Mulder, seeing his father squat down to Max's level. "Well hello there," Mulder said, taking Max's hand and shaking it, his smile wider than it had ever been. "I believe we have met before, though."

"Yeah," Max said with a nod, "but I just wanted to make sure you remembered who I am."

"I could never forget you, Max," Mulder murmured, hugging the boy, who gratefully embraced him back.

Max turned to Scully, whose eyes were filled with tears. "Hi, Grandma," he said as she squatted down next to Mulder. Max looked into her eyes, puzzled. "Why are you crying?" he asked. "You don't like me?" he added with a whisper.

Scully's arms flung around the boy, hugging him with intensity. "Oh, no, Max. I'm crying because I love you," she replied, stroking the boy's hair that felt just like her son's that she had embraced moments before.

Still low to the ground, Mulder looked over at Emma, baffled by her beauty, her bright shiny copper-red curls and sharp green eyes stunning him into silence. "Hi, beautiful," he whispered tearfully, feeling himself on the brink of losing it. "It's okay, Emma," he urged gently; she tightened her grip on Cara's jeans. "Do you like to sing?" Mulder asked, everyone now watching how Mulder spoke with Emma, who nodded her head to his question. "What's your favorite song?"

"Mister Sun," Emma whispered.

Mulder grinned. "That's a great song."

"You know that song, too?" Emma asked innocently with shock. Mulder nodded. "Do you know what your hands do?" she asked, her fingers slowly unclenching Cara's jeans.

"No," Mulder said softly, with a small frown. "No one ever taught me."

"I can taught you," Emma said excitedly.

"Teach," Cara corrected gently.

"Teach," Emma repeated. "Grandpa, I can teach you, but you have to sing so you can know what your hands do."

"Deal," Mulder said, feeling a tear slip from his eye as he saw Emma's grip completely release from Cara, her tiny frame moving to him. She proceeded to show him the entire song, Mulder willingly singing and moving his hands into the shape of a sun as he listened to her precious voice. Everyone was crying by the time they were done, and Mulder was rewarded with an embrace by Emma.

"You're not spooky," she said quietly. "Max said people call you Spooky, but you're not spooky."

Mulder laughed heartily, giving Emma a hug. "Well, thank you," he replied, kissing the top of her head.

Emma turned to look at Scully. Her jaw dropped with her innocent revelation. "Mommy!" Emma whispered. "Grandma has hair like me!" Emma's eyes were wide as she carefully touched Scully's copper waves that hit her collarbone. "Mommy, Grandma is a ginger too!"

Everyone laughed, wiping away the tears of joy that they each shed. "Emma," Cara said though she smiled, "that's not a good word, remember?"

"Oh," Emma said. "Sorry." Her face dipped down with sadness.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Scully said, giving Emma a big hug as Max found his way into Mulder's arms. "I love your hair." She stroked the curls, fresh tears finding her.

Both Mulder and Scully stood, a child in each of their arms as their eyes fell on Cara. They noticed how she had lost weight and her hair had dulled from the lack of the New Mexico sun that had brightened it. Yet both were overjoyed at the sight of her, each pressing a tender kiss on her cheek as they embraced her with love. "You're an amazing mother," Scully whispered, knowing what the words meant to Cara, who burst into tears. Scully wrapped Cara in her arms, pressing her and Emma to herself with ferocity, unable to stop her own tears from falling.

"No, I'm not," Cara cried, shaking against Scully's shoulder.

"Listen to me," Scully said firmly, stroking Cara's hair. "What you've done for them … what you've given them and risked for them … There couldn't be a better mother for them than you." She smiled tenderly at Cara, who smiled back through a quiver.

"Grandpa," Max said as Scully and Cara slowly parted, "I'm hungry."

"When did you eat last?" Mulder asked softly, looking to Will.

"Lunchtime," Max said.

"Yesterday," Will added.

"Well that won't do," Mulder chided, setting Max down. "I'll go grab the bag of food. I'm sure there's something left. If not, we'll get you some."

"Can I come with you?" Max asked.

"Actually," Mulder said, glancing from Will to Cara, "we brought some friends with us here. They would love to meet you and your sister. I'll go get them and the food, okay?"

Max nodded in approval. "Okay."

Mulder looked to Will, who gave him a small nod, watching Mulder leave. Will knew Cara had completely forgotten about Cyrus in light of everything that had happened recently; he glanced over at her, quickly feeling nervous. Cara was still distracted with Scully, they talking about how Max and Emma had developed so quickly and what their favorite things were and what they hated, Scully surprised at the many inherited tastes and personality traits the children shared with her and Mulder. Max found himself at Scully's feet, bragging about his many accomplishments to his grandmother with pride while Emma was singing softly to herself in Scully's arms as she played with Scully's hair, Scully swaying gently to the nonexistent music Emma heard and vocalize to.

Doggett and Reyes entered moments later, the small motel room beginning to feel cramped. The children were quickly introduced, each seeming to take to Doggett and Reyes with relative ease. During the process of them catching up with Cara, Mulder tossed Will a fresh tee shirt and new jeans. "Change," he said with a grin, not yet aware of what had happened to Will only a short time before. "You smell alright, but your pants are another story."

"Thanks, that's sweet, Dad," Will said back with a grin. He then sighed. "We lost everything," he murmured regretfully, most upset by losing the kids' toys. "Dana was in there. Max's basketball too."

"Dana?" Mulder asked.

"Emma's doll," Will explained. "The dark-haired one you gave to mom when she was pregnant with me."

"Scully named her Dana?"

Will shook his head. "Emma did." He saw how Mulder was confused. "We never told them about you," Will whispered. "We were too scared that it would somehow lead to your exposure. But … Emma just knew the doll should be named Dana."

In silence, Will slipped into the bathroom, Cara finding herself observing the children interacting with Shilah, Doggett and Reyes alongside Scully. Mulder carefully slipped next to Scully, whispering gently into her ear, knowing Cara was watching. "Cara," he said, taking a step closer to his daughter in law. "Cara, there's someone you need to meet."

Cara's heart stopped; she instantly remembered the email she and Will had fought over what seemed like forever ago. She felt nauseous and on edge immediately, knowing she was emotionally clamming up. "I …" She shook her head, her teeth clenching her lip in fear.

"Cara," Mulder encouraged with a gentle squeeze of her hands, "he's … he's been through a lot. He's come a long way to be here."

"How do you even know what he says is true?" she demanded softly, searching Mulder's eyes. "I mean, for all we know, he could be one of them!"

Mulder shook his head. "He's not," he whispered. He saw her try to pull away. "Just … give him a chance, alright?" Mulder asked. "He just might surprise you."

Cara's eyes glanced toward the bathroom, feeling reluctant without Will's presence. Her eyes shot to the front door when it slowly opened, the afternoon sun cutting through the room and into her eyes. A tall, broad figure filled the space that was made; she felt his eyes peer straight through to her. The man took a step closer into the room, staring at Cara as his facial features became visible to her. Her lips parted; she was overwhelmed.

He had her father's eyes.


	14. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

It had been years since he last saw her for the first time, but the way Cara looked at Cyrus made him realize she didn't recognize him. He closed his eyes in a panic after turning to shut the door behind himself, feeling tempted to bolt despite his overwhelming desire to find her and the children. He turned back, looking slowly up from to floor to meet her eyes again - eyes that belonged to both of them, eyes of their father.

She looked taller than he remembered - perhaps it was because she had been sitting during most of their initial conversation at the bar. That is, until Will stepped in and decked him. _Speaking of the devil,_ Cyrus thought idly, _wonder where the Yank is? _He quickly returned his mental focus on Cara, who hadn't moved since he first came through the door.

She was still blonde, her eyes vibrantly and haunting blue like Timothy's, though hers carried far more sincerity than his ever did. She was chewing on her full bottom lip - a nervous habit, he presumed - and she shifted her weight carefully as she stared. She was thinner than he had seen her last, knowing the lack of available food had taken its toll, though he did note how her figure had changed in proportions from the birth of the twins, the curves more pronounced than before. She was beautiful; he instantly felt possessive and protective, his natural instinct to shelter her under his big brother wing flooding him. He thought of rushing toward her and embracing her, but then caught the hesitance in her eyes and opted to just carefully hold his hand out, offering a shake instead. "Caraline," he murmured gently, "my name is Cyrus English."

The accent threw her for a loop, the thick, sultry Australian drip to his baritone confusing her. She couldn't seem to move past his eyes, though, hers still examining them with unbridled questioning. If she was being honest, she immediately noticed how handsome he was, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, enthralling sensuality and charisma seeping from every pore of his body. It was wrong, and she hated it, but she felt it. It was such a specific feeling, one that only struck her like it had now once before, though they had to touch before it did. This time, it was there, a presence that could not be ignored or denied. The man in front of her was a Shield.

And not only a Shield, but the very essence of the chemistry Shields shared, pre-packaged into a sandy blonde-haired, blue-eyed man who stood well over six feet tall with a large hand that was reluctantly withdrawing due to her lack of proper response to his gesture. Afraid but intrigued, Cara gripped it before it could fully lower, a familiar electricity pulsing through her with heightened speed. She didn't know what to say - he certainly couldn't be lying about his status as a Shield, she knew that now to be fact as she shook his hand. Still, were those her father's eyes she was now looking into? Was her brother standing in front of her? Was she truly holding the hand of her only blood relative left on earth besides her children?

The sensations she experienced while touching Cyrus bothered Cara, snatching her hand away as she felt sick and twisted inside, dirty with sin she hadn't asked to feel. He seemed to understand, Cyrus' small nod of his head confirmation that it was, in fact, not her fault - by some cruel fate, this was his norm. Existing as pure magnetism was something he had obviously lived with for many years now, recognizing the subtle behavioral shifts in others during interactions. "It's not your fault," he whispered with a sigh, rubbing his eyebrows with an annoyed purse of his lips. Annoyed at her father, she assumed. After all, if they were related, this was most likely Timothy English's handiwork. "Timothy thought I'd make a nice first lab rat, only he didn't fully have his scientific feet under him at the time." Cyrus laughed; she gulped when she heard how musical it was. "Guess you could say he added a bit too much of the chemistry chemical," he joked. He then smiled - it was so sincere that Cara thought she would cry right then. "At least he perfected it all when he got to you."

"How …" was all she could process from her brain to her mouth, now feeling the eyes of nearly everyone in the room on her and Cyrus.

"We share a father," Cyrus replied, taking a gamble and stepping closer. He was relieved when she didn't shy away. "My mother was an actress from Brisbane, where I was raised. She was on holiday in New York, where she met up with our old man." Cyrus sighed. "He was in a relationship with your mother when …"

"Yeah," Cara finished softly, suddenly feeling the need to escape. "I need some air," she murmured.

Cyrus gestured toward the door. "By all means," he replied gently, watching her walk out quickly, shutting his eyes in defeat. He heard Mulder approach, his head still hanging. "Not exactly what I imagined," he muttered. Pausing, he shrugged. "Or maybe it's exactly what I was imagining. Either way, it sucks."

Mulder didn't know what to say - not that it mattered, since at the same time Cara left, Will appeared from the bathroom in his changed clothes. Will's eyes immediately fell on Cyrus, who turned toward the sound of the bathroom door closing with a little more power than necessary. Cyrus analyzed Will carefully, feeling his fingers twitch by his side before curling up into a soft fist. "William," Cyrus said with a stiff nod, wanting to grill him right then and there regarding his relationship with his sister.

"You son of a bitch," Will growled with sudden recognition, charging after Cyrus. Shilah and Mulder intercepted Will while Doggett intercepted Cyrus, who lunged forward into defense when he saw Will's hostility.

"Hey!" Mulder snapped at Will, gripping his son firmly. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"That bastard deserves it," Will spat.

"I'll be happy to take this outside, Yank," Cyrus said angrily as he struggled against Doggett.

"Anytime, anywhere," Will taunted, still fighting against his father and Shilah.

"William!" Scully snapped, keeping the children close. "What has gotten into you?"

"He's nothing but a lying, lowlife pervert!" Will yelled, not wanting to hurt Mulder or Shilah but coming close to just breaking free from their grasp so he could pummel Cyrus.

Cyrus yelled back, "You don't know a bloody thing about me, you stupid wanker!" Doggett tried to maintain his ground, Cyrus giving him a good fight.

"Oh, I know about you," Will said with a sneer. "I know your game. I know where your mind is."

"I know where your mind will be too once I'm finished with you!"

"HEY!" Mulder yelled, silencing both of the angry young men. "THAT'S ENOUGH!" He watched how Will and Cyrus stared each other down like rapid dogs, foaming at the mouth to beat each other senseless. "Now, I don't know what the hell happened between you two, but you both need to be done with it. Right now!"

"I'll be done with it when he's gone," Will retorted, his glare aimed at Cyrus.

"I'm not going anywhere, so you'd better get used to it, Yank," Cyrus warned back.

The front door opened quickly, Cara filling the empty space, her eyes wide when she saw Will and Cyrus panting across from each other as they were held tightly by Shilah, Mulder and Doggett. "Will!" she said with shock, her mouth opening. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I was trying to get rid of this lying, perverted bastard who's bent on stalking you," Will replied, his eyes still locked on Cyrus.

"That's my brother!" Cara snapped.

Immediately, Will's face changed as he put the pieces together. Cyrus was still on edge, watching him carefully, ready to attack if necessary. However, he saw Will relax in what looked like embarrassment, Cyrus concluding that Will had understood why he did what he did in the bar that night years ago. "I'm fine," Will murmured, shrugging off Mulder and Shilah from his arms, breathing deeply to calm himself as he kept his focus on Cyrus.

"I'm glad you're fine," Cyrus mumbled sarcastically, shaking Doggett off of him, "because I've got plenty to talk to you about."

"So you're Cyrus," Will stated, gritting his teeth.

"You look disappointed," Cyrus taunted, taking a step closer, which put everyone on edge as they watched.

"I should've figured," Will replied, matching Cyrus' step. "Let me guess, you share a father. … That would explain why you've been absent from Cara's life."

Cyrus lunged at Will and both men were immediately intercepted again. "HEY!" Cara yelled, planting herself firmly between Will and Cyrus. "That's enough!" She looked from Will to Cyrus slowly, then back to Will. "Stay here with the kids," she said stiffly to him, turning to Cyrus. "You," she ordered. "Outside with me."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Will objected, grabbing Cara's arm. "You're not going anywhere with him!"

Cara violently yanked her arm away from Will. "Watch me," she replied cooly, grabbing Cyrus' hand and dragging him to the front door, slamming it behind her and him. Will was fuming as he pulled himself from Shilah's grasp, the only thing taking his attention off of the closed front door was Scully's voice.

"William," Scully reprimanded, "you've scared Max and Emma half to death!"

Will turned, looking at his children as they huddled close to Scully. He instantly felt bad, wanting to take back his anger so they wouldn't be afraid. "Hey," he said softly, stooping down to their level, "I'm sorry, guys."

"Why do you hate him, Daddy?" Max whispered.

"Well … Daddy got mad because the last time he saw that man, it wasn't a good situation."

"But he's telling the truth," Max argued.

"Is he?" Will mumbled. He saw Max nod. Will sighed, his eyes falling back on the door.

"Mommy cares about him," Max quietly added. He saw his father immediately look back to him.

"Is he her brother?" Emma asked softly, looking at Max, who nodded. "Oh," she murmured, seeming disappointed.

"What's wrong, Emma?" Scully asked gently.

"Well," Emma whispered, "he's a bad man."

"No, he's not!" Max insisted.

"Yes he is!" Emma argued back. "Daddy said he was!"

"He's not bad!" Max pouted, glaring at Will. "Daddy is just jealous."

Will's eyebrow raised. "Excuse me?"

"That's why you were angry," Max said crossly. "Because you don't want Mommy to care about him."

Scully's lips parted as she looked to Will, who swallowed and shut his eyes. "Max, that's not what Daddy meant-"

"Why don't you want Mommy to like him?" Emma asked.

"Emma, I-"

"Because he doesn't trust him," Max answered with a hurt frown.

"That's not true, Max," Will argued.

"Is too!"

Will sighed and stood, turning away from the kids as he ran his hand through his hair. He paced away from the door, grumbling under his breath as he waited for Cara to come back into the room, hating how Max had exposed his feelings about Cyrus to everyone. Will didn't trust Cyrus - not that he now knew he was the same person from that night so long ago.

The more Will thought about it, though, the worse he felt about his initial reaction to Cyrus. He realized that Cyrus must have acted the way he did that night years ago in order to drive Cara away from him because he was a Shield and he was trying to protect her. He sighed, feeling horribly for how he acted after a few minutes had passed, knowing he had yet to hear from Cara how she felt about his little display of aggression he put on.

* * *

Outside, Cyrus and Cara had taken a stroll out to the beach, Cara finally ready to deal with the reality that was Cyrus. "Why didn't you tell me who you were when you first saw me?" she asked softly, focusing on the waves of the ocean.

"If you'd known, you would have been in danger," Cyrus replied, his hands digging into his pockets. "Our father told me your name only to prevent things like what happened in the pub. He never told me where you were or what you looked like. I never wanted to know … I didn't want to risk your life through knowing."

"But you found out."

"Yeah. Guess I was meant to know."

Cara swallowed. "Sorry about Will," she said softly. "I guess he remembered that night before I did."

Cyrus' lips pursed together in stiff acknowledgment of Cara's words, thinking about Will. "Is he good to you?" he asked, feeling protective and defensive of Cara. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the way she looked at him in surprise. "Look," Cyrus said, keeping his focus on the water in front of them, "I've known for three years who you are. For three years I've known my baby sister was with both the world's most powerful and most hated and wanted man. When I read how he kidnapped you, I nearly lost my mind. If it wasn't for Brody, I'd have probably ripped William's head off."

"Brody Wesson?" Cara asked, stunned.

Cyrus nodded. "He contacted me once you went with William to Oregon," he explained. "He told me the truth about it all before I could kill William." He paused. "Brody swore to look after you, which I know he did. But after he died, I couldn't find you."

"Why didn't you come to me yourself?"

"I wanted to," Cyrus whispered, turning and looking into Cara's eyes. "I couldn't, though. First it was because I had made too many enemies that would've used you against me. I was laying as low as I could so I didn't draw attention to you. That was when I arranged for you to be paired with Brody for protection. I … I thought you'd listen to him, take his advice to drop the crazy search for William's truth. Turns out I was wrong. After that, you disappeared. I couldn't find you. Not until I made an exchange with a contact called Nightwatcher, who knew Fox. I told him about the camp I built so he could tell Fox and Fox would bring you in." Cyrus exhaled deeply.

"The Insurgence," Cara concluded.

"Yeah," Cyrus grumbled.

"Wait, I thought that was a good thing." Cara was confused by Cyrus' negative reaction at the mention of the name.

"It was, once upon a time," Cyrus replied. "Though to be honest, I only built it because it's what our father wanted." Cyrus shrugged. "My mother died when I was sixteen and I flew myself to Hoboken to live with him." Cyrus swallowed. "Only, he was married to your mother, who knew nothing about me or my mother. He sent me to live in a boy's home, but told me to tell my mother's brother I was enjoying living with him. He was preparing to begin the tests at the compound and he decided I would make a nice guinea pig." Cara saw the clear resentment in Cyrus' eyes. "I was desperate for a parent's affection at that point. My mother was incredibly distant - never had much time for me, since she was an addict and it controlled her life. So … I let Timothy make me into what he called a 'superhero.' I was seventeen when he made me into a Shield. Only, I was his first experiment and I didn't turn out how he wanted me to. When he realized that, our relationship became strained."

The pounding water was the only sound between them for a while, Cyrus' gaze drifting back toward it. "Last I talked to our father, I told him I was starting the camp in Corpus Christi, like he wanted it. He seemed distant … he didn't seem to care. But I had already invested my money and time into it and I decided to finish the camp for myself, so I could finally have people to care for and about. That was three years ago, nearly. Haven't heard from him since. Now the camp is a joke run by people who are greedy for power and control rather than concerned with the preservation of life."

Cara's heart broke as she listened to Cyrus' story that mirrored her own in so many ways, especially feeling for him when she realized he didn't know about Timothy's death. "Dad died," she said softly, seeing his face change despite his eyes remaining on the ocean. "He died telling me who I was last January."

Cyrus was quiet; he hadn't expected her revelation. "Part of me had hoped he'd still be alive," he admitted. "But only so he could suffer under the hands of the monsters he served."

"He was trying to protect us," Cara defended.

"Protect?" Cyrus asked incredulously, turning to her. "How has he ever protected you, Caraline?" His eyes searched hers with intensity. "Caraline, he forced you to be exposed to an alien virus so he could test his goddamn genetic rerouting he did to you. Which, by the way, entailed him to nearly kill you to begin with, causing you to suffer horrific pain while men without names or responsibility for the atrocities watched from outside a glass chamber!" He shook his head. "That bastard never wanted to protect any of us! He made me into this sickening way I am because he didn't give a damn about any of us! We were nothing more than a potential for a Nobel Prize, Caraline. You, me, Brody … all the other Shields who now think I'm a monster because I've tried to protect them … we were never meant to be anything more than vessels to carry the next Shield. Never meant for anything more than repopulation."

"I disagree," Cara said after a long pause, her voice quiet and unsure.

"No, you don't," Cyrus corrected, knowing she was scared to admit her hatred for what their father had done. "You can't tell me you weren't disgusted when he told you about what he did. Despite how he may have died, that man never gave a damn about either of us. He cared about protecting the work, not you." Cyrus felt his heart rate climbing. "If he cared about you, Caraline, he would've given you a normal life. You can't tell me you'd experiment on your children in there, would you?"

He was right - she wouldn't. She felt Cyrus take her hands into his. "So tell me, Caraline," Cyrus said softly, "tell me William is good to you. Because after the hell you've been through in your life, I swear to God if he isn't, I'll murder him right here, right now. And don't think I won't, because I nearly did ten minutes ago."

"He's my best friend," Cara whispered. "He's … he's everything to me."

"Yes, but what does _he_ treat _you_ like?" Cyrus insisted.

Cara looked into Cyrus' eyes and saw the true concern of a brother so clearly displayed in them. The emotion, the warmth, the love she saw in him haunted her and enthralled her, a void for family filled that she had long since accepted as empty. "Like I'm his everything," she replied, grasping Cyrus' warm hands firmly, drinking in the connection they shared as blood. "Like he's nothing without me."

A seagull chirped loudly as it passed overhead, the ocean slipping onto the sand with a rumbling presence. "As well he should," Cyrus replied. He was surprised as he felt himself be drawn into Cara's arms, the tears coming as he finally received the confirmation he had waited years for.

She accepted him. He had true family.

* * *

They walked back to the motel with a mutual platonic grip on each other's hands, finding comfort in the existence together though there were no words between them. "I need to talk to him," Cyrus finally said when they approached the parking lot.

"Don't …" Cara was nervous; she knew what Will was capable of.

"If he's got half a brain, he won't try anything with me," Cyrus said cooly.

"Cyrus, he's a super soldier."

"And he's gone and knocked up my little sister." Cyrus was livid. "I don't care how super he is, I'll kick his bloody teeth out if he deserves it."

"I don't know how I feel about this," Cara murmured half-jokingly. "It's pretty stressful enough to have a hot-tempered husband let alone a hot-tempered older brother too."

Cyrus grinned softly. "You better just hope he answers the questions I ask him right, then."

"Cyrus …"

Cyrus paused, his grip tightening on Cara's hand as he listened to an approaching noise, squinting as he examined the distant skies. "Shit," he muttered, "come on." He urged her forward, his touch penetrating through her clothes in currents of intensity into her skin.

"What is it?" Cara asked as she was ushered along.

"Helos," Cyrus replied. "Look to be Censurian. I'd venture to guess they're looking for Mister Wonderful." He saw how Cara turned back to eye him at his statement, ignoring her meager warning. "Guess my interrogation will have to wait."

"Please don't go barrelling in there," Cara whispered. "The kids have been through enough already."

She saw Cyrus nod in agreement as he opened the door quickly for her and Cara stepped inside, realizing that her return had silenced the room. "Well, this isn't at all awkward," she mumbled. She quickly made her way to the children, giving them both hugs as she watched Will and Cyrus face off from across the room.

"Listen," Will said, trying to be humble with Cyrus but finding it difficult to be civil, "I'm sorry about earlier."

"I'm to blame as well," Cyrus offered, finding it equally as hard as Will did.

"It's alright."

Cyrus nodded. "Right, we're square then."

Cara waited, looking at Cyrus to see if he was going to take Will aside. Instead, she was surprised when his eyes drifted past her to the children near her. "If it's alright, I'd like to meet the truly important people in the room," he said with a grin.

With a quick glance back to Will, Cyrus proceeded toward the children, carefully squatting down to their level. "Hello, love," he gently said to Emma, knowing she was shy since Cara had warned him about it. She was surprisingly drawn to him, though. _His chemistry_, Cara concluded silently. _It makes her feel comfortable. _Cyrus took Emma's hand with tenderness, his heart instantly full at the sight of his niece.

"Hi," she whispered.

"You must be the lovely Emma Katharine." He saw her nod. "I'm Cyrus Daniel. It's an honor to meet you." He pressed a gentle kiss on her hand, seeing Emma giggle softly.

"Hi, Cyrus," Emma whispered.

"Uncle Cyrus," Cara corrected, seeing Cyrus' grateful smile.

"Mommy, he kissed me like Cinderella!" Emma said excitedly to Cara, who smiled down at her daughter.

"And …" Cyrus paused. "You must be Superman." He grinned playfully at Max.

"No!" Max said with a laugh, shaking his head.

"Really?" Cyrus asked with fake astonishment. "Are you certain?"

"Yes!" Max giggled.

"Oh, sure …" Cyrus nodded knowingly, leaning in closer to Max, "I forgot you're not suppose to tell people." He pulled back. "Right, then. Clark Kent. It's an honor." He stuck his hand out, Max giggling as he shook it. With pride, Cyrus ruffled Max's hair. He stood, both children watching him. "What do you lot say we find some food, eh?"

"I'm soooooo hungry," Max droaned.

"Grandpa hasn't got anything in the bag?" Cyrus asked. Max shook his head. Cyrus' eyes fell to Cara, then Will. "Then we best be on our way." Cyrus crossed over to Will, pausing in front of him as he spoke softly, attempting to keep the conversation out of range of the children. "It won't be long before the area is destroyed looking for you. They were burning the bodies of the rebels at the port when we arrived. Now there's helos combing the area."

Will nodded in solemnness. He saw how Cyrus pushed aside his tension, agreeing to do the same. "Where do we go?" he asked.

"Arizona," Shilah spoke up, the adults in the room turning to look at him. "You can live at the settlement."

"Shilah," Will objected, "there's going to be a war soon."

Shilah nodded. "All the more reason to build an army."

Will inhaled deeply, catching his father's eyes before glancing over to Cyrus. "What about the camp?" he asked Cyrus.

"It's no good to us now," Cyrus said with disappointment. He nodded to Shilah. "We'd best take stock in the people who we can trust."

"The kids need to eat."

"I know where we can go," Shilah offered. "We can stay there the night too, I'm sure."

"Shilah," Reyes asked, "did you drive here?"

He nodded. "I left my truck near where I found Shima and the children. If it's not stolen by now, it has supplies in it."

"Right then. Let's divide, split their focus. We can double back to get it," Cyrus instructed. He paused when he saw Will's jaw flex and he felt Will's eyes piercing through him in discontentment with his initiative to act as the leader.

"That's not a good idea," Will said firmly, folding his arms over his chest.

"And what's your crackerjack plan then, Yank?" Cyrus asked defensively.

"We go together. We stay as a unit."

"So they can pick us all off at the same time?" Cyrus laughed. "You've got to be kidding me. You're naive if you think they won't notice a caravan. Two cars, two separate ways. It's our only shot of blending in until we can get out of this hot zone you've created."

"And how do you suppose we communicate with each other?" Will asked firmly.

"Max," Cyrus said, nodding to the boy across the room.

"He's with me," Will growled, glaring at Cyrus.

"Look," Cyrus said in impatience, "I don't doubt you'd like the boy to stay with you. But he's our only shot at making this work."

"Cara and the kids are with me," Will said with resolution.

"William, Cyrus may be right," Mulder interrupted, knowing Will was irritated at even the suggestion from his father. "Cara and the children can travel with Scully, Cyrus and Shilah. Doggett, Reyes, you and I will go together."

"No," Will snapped. "They stay with me."

"William," Scully said softly, seeing how panicked her son was becoming as he felt people ganging up on him. "This is what is best for Cara and the children." She saw Will look over to her. "As a backup, I can talk to you at least somewhat as well."

The loud sound of a helicopter's blades slicing through the air as it hovered overhead began to fill the room, swooping across the roof of the motel room with vengeance. "Do what's best for the kids, mate," Cyrus offered, catching Will's eyes.

"Don't tell me what is best for my children," Will sneered.

"They're my blood," Cyrus threw back. "So you should start appreciating my desire to protect them as well instead of being so lost in your own pigheadedness that your head gets stuck up your arse."

"Alright," Mulder said, slicing through the rapidly growing tension. He turned to Will. "William," he said softly, "this _is_ what is best for your family."

With clear irritation, Will snatched the keys to the truck he had been given, purposely knocking against Cyrus' arm as he gathered Cara and the children, guiding them out of the door to get them settled into the car. Cyrus closed his eyes, trying to swallow back his fury. The second helicopter over them that pulsated through the air snapped him out of his stupor of rage temporarily and he quickly combed the room with the others, gathering supplies before leaving the motel.

* * *

"Sir," a voice of a man in Censurian uniform clutching a radio in the belly of the helicopter relayed. "This is CHP Four. I've got a visual of suspicious activity." The craft he was in swept across the sky, the man behind dark glasses eying the dividing SUVs as they pulled away.

"CHP Four, can you confirm?" a voice on the other end asked.

"Affirmative, sir. Two sport utility vehicles headed east from the coast. They appear to be dividing."

"Can you confirm William Mulder's presence?"

The Censurian paused, peering through binoculars. "Affirmative, sir. He is in one of the vehicles. What are your orders, sir?"

"Engage targets with Class One procedures Don't leave anything behind," the Smoking Man instructed, dragging slowly on his cigarette and exhaling with a smile.


	15. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Mulder didn't trust Will to drive to where Shilah had said he left the truck, knowing how furious he still was over parting from Cara and the children. He knew, though, that Cyrus was right in his assessment of the situation they were in - the Censure was after Will, and there was more protection for Cara and the twins to be had if they divided and lured the helicopters away from the vehicle Shilah was driving to the hiding place.

It wasn't long after they divided that the choppers overhead began to solely focus on the car with Will inside, Will confused by their seemingly elementary approach. Did they expect him to be with his young family, like Cyrus had said? It certainly seemed like they were putting all their eggs in a singular basket, lowering dangerously close to the tops of the many buildings that were littered on the San Francisco streets they drove quickly through. He didn't want to admit it, but Cyrus was right - the Censure assumed Will would be unwilling to part with Cara, Max and Emma.

"Is it just me, or do I feel like they narrowed it down to this car too easily?" Mulder asked.

"Yeah," Doggett agreed.

"I think I know why," Reyes said softly. "Cyrus and Cara are Shields. None of us in here are Shields."

"Damn," Doggett mumbled. "We should've kept Cyrus with us."

"It's better this way," Mulder insisted. "If we keep their focus on us, Shilah and Cyrus can get Scully, Cara and the children to safety."

"There," Doggett said, pointing to a large, black truck in the distance. As they came closer, they confirmed that it had the same license plate that Shilah had provided.

"Can you both siphon the gas quickly?" Mulder asked, glancing in the rearview mirror at Doggett and Reyes.

"Yeah," Reyes confirmed. "We're ready."

"Alright. When I pull up, William, you need to check the rear and I'll check the front." Mulder paused when he didn't hear a response from Will. "William?" he asked sharply.

"What?" Will growled.

"Keep your head in the game, alright?" Mulder scolded.

"My head is in the game," Will snapped.

Angrily, Mulder threw the car into park, yanking the keys from the ignition as he, Doggett, Reyes and Will exited quickly to their assigned tasks. Midway to the car, Will stopped in the middle of the empty street. The choppers loomed overhead; William knew something wasn't right. "Back in the car!" he yelled with wide eyes. "Get in the car!"

"William-" Mulder argued as he stood next to Will, pausing though he was impatient to get the job done.

"NOW!" Will shouted, grabbing his father and dragging him back, hurrying toward the dark blue SUV behind them. He only paused for a brief moment, turning to see where Doggett and Reyes were. He was horrified that they were at the side of the vehicle, attempting to siphon the gas. They hadn't heard his warning over the roar of the helicopter.

"START THE CAR!" Will screamed to his father, shoving him aside as he raced to Shilah's truck, shouting at Doggett and Reyes. "MOVE! GET OUT OF THERE! GET AWAY FROM THE CAR!" His feet flew across the pavement as he approached them, seeing that they heard his warnings. Doggett and Reyes looked to him with confusion as they stepped away from the side of the truck, gas siphoning equipment in hand.

It was too late, though. The drive of a missile from the chopper overhead whistled through the air, the explosion knocking Will back several yards, his body grinding into the asphalt as it slid across the street. He was slammed into a light pole with force from the impact of the weapon and he shielded himself from the flying debris the burst of flames had tossed in all directions.

Will regained himself quickly, horrified at the scene. "NO!" he screamed, racing back toward the explosion. He was blown back down to the ground as another missile penetrated the engulfed vehicle, another ball of fire roaring from the same spot with fury.

"WILLIAM!" he heard his father shout as he stood, his entire being wrought with grief and pain as he looked at the scene. The helicopters whirled by overhead, and Will knew they got a good look at him. He dove toward the dark SUV they had driven in as the bullets pelted the ground in search of his body, automatic weapons trained on him within fractions of inches. He managed to get into the car just as the choppers lost their range to view him, the rounds ceasing as Mulder spun the car wildly toward the meeting location where Shilah was taking the rest of the group.

They raced up and down the steeply-graded roads, the choppers weaving in and out of buildings to take their aim and try to eliminate them. Mulder's erratic driving was enough to keep them alive, though. "William," Mulder breathed, "you've got to try to take the choppers down!"

Will's heart and mind were still clouded with the tragic way Doggett and Reyes had been lost to them, knowing his father was compartmentalizing his own emotions for the time being in order to preserve his son's life. "I don't know if I can," Will admitted.

"You've got to at least try, William!" Mulder insisted, cutting another sharp right. "We'll never make it otherwise!"

With determination, Will began to focus his mental energy, feeling the strain of the task. He hadn't controlled things with his mind in what seemed like ages, he needing to bottle up his various powers while he and his family were in hiding. He groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to drive the two choppers down. "I can't … bring them down …"

"Then bring them together!" Mulder shouted.

After a deep breath, Will focused himself, his mind battling between the terrifying image of Doggett and Reyes being burnt alive in the fiery explosion only a short time ago and what would happen to Cara and his children, even his parents and Shilah, should he fail to take down the choppers. He gripped the car door in pain, the tension rapidly building as he strained to control the helicopters. At an agonizingly slow pace, he forced the two helicopters closer together with his telekinetic control, the aircrafts colliding in a twisted heap of metal that momentarily flew overhead before sinking down into a nearby office complex with a roaring boom. Searing white flames licked up from the center of the explosion, consuming the choppers and the top portion of the building they fell into as the sky rained down broken pieces of the complex onto the street.

The two men sat in silence for a few moments as they sped away, each overtaken by the shock of what had happened, the lives lost so suddenly that neither were prepared. Will was desperate to know if Cara and his children were safe, so he closed his eyes and focused on speaking to his son, breathing a small sigh of relief when he received a message back. "They're safe," he managed to say softly, clearing his throat as his eyes focused on the winding road his father navigated.

"Good," Mulder said, still pained from what they witnessed.

"Stay straight, then go east on Concierge Drive," Will added. "Then hang a right onto Juniper. Number forty-seven. There's a garage to pull the car into to conceal it. The hideout is underground."

Mulder nodded, blinking slowly as he gripped the wheel. "How do I tell the kids?" he heard his son ask him softly.

"You have to be honest with them," Mulder advised.

"They have the comprehension of maybe four-year-olds," Will argued.

"Max will find out what he wants to know. So don't give him a reason to distrust you."

Will knew his father was right. Talking about death between adults was hard enough let alone trying to explain it to children, especially ones so young. "Why were they born into a world like this?" Will asked, grieving for the unfortunate circumstances his children were forced to live in.

"So they could change it," Mulder replied softly.

* * *

47 Juniper Avenue  
San Francisco, CA  
3:12 PM PST

Mulder parked the SUV in the concealed garage, shutting the engine off with a deep sigh. Neither he nor Will immediately departed from the vehicle, each still too stunned to truly feel ready to face the music. "Come on," Mulder finally said, his hand finding Will's shoulder and patting it gently.

"Dad …" Will stopped, unable to finish his thought.

"You tried, William," Mulder assured. "You need to remember that."

"They died because of me," Will angrily pointed out.

"No, William," Mulder corrected. "They died because of _them_. You know that. This war isn't because of you. This war is because of what _they've_ done. John and Monica both were ready to stand behind you and fight this fight. They died defending what they believed in."

"They were the ones who first helped me," Will murmured with sorrowful recollection. "They trusted me even before I trusted myself."

Mulder nodded. "Now it's your job to give others something to trust in," he said softly. He caught Will's eyes, his hand still on his shoulder. "You've got to remember that people will fight for something they believe in. Whatever may come is not because of you. It's because of the desire for change, for freedom. You're inspiring people to sacrifice themselves for a better life. Stay strong, William. They need your strength to look up to."

With a deep breath, Will slid out of the car, shutting the door behind himself as he waited for Mulder to join him. "I'm guessing through there?" Will asked, gesturing to a doorway. They approached it carefully, walking through to find a relatively normal-looking kitchen. "I thought he said it was underground?"

Mulder's eyes fell on the storage closet door. "It is," he replied, opening the storage closet to find a staircase leading down into a dark underground hall. Mulder pulled out his flashlight and aimed it ahead, he and Will cautiously descending down into the depths of the hideout.

They came to a steel door that was most likely bolted from the other side. Before they could knock, it opened, Shilah carrying Max greeting them. "Max told us you were here," Shilah explained, the boy leaping into Will's arms. Will took him gratefully, sighing in relief as he kissed his son. "Where are the others?" Shilah asked quietly; Mulder followed Will through the doorway, shaking his head slightly. In confusion, Shilah closed the door, keeping his eyes on Mulder.

"Where are John and Monica?" Scully asked, quickly approaching Mulder. She felt Mulder grasp her hand and draw her into himself, pressing a grateful kiss on her forehead.

"They didn't make it," Mulder said quietly. The entire room stopped; activity ceased as Mulder's words sunk in.

"Oh my God," Scully whispered, her eyes welling with tears. "What happened?"

Will walked away in silence, gripping Max tightly. "Where are Cara and Emma?" he managed to ask.

"With Cyrus in the back room," Scully answered, still stunned by Mulder's words that she didn't comprehend her son's quick departure. "What happened?" she begged of Mulder, wiping her tears aside.

"They were trying to siphon gas from Shilah's truck when the Censure blew up the car," Mulder explained quietly.

The silence laid heavily in the room, those who didn't even know Doggett or Reyes who were present in the underground hideaway solemn in respectful mourning for the two lives so drastically and cruelly lost. "William tried to help them …" Mulder offered, still holding Scully's hands close to his lips.

Scully glanced back at the hallway Will had passed through with Max, knowing how incredibly pained and guilty her son must have felt for being unable to prevent their deaths. "I told him it wasn't his fault," Mulder murmured. "I know he's still taking it hard, though."

* * *

With a loudness that startled Cara, Will threw open the door to the small back room she, Cyrus and Emma were occupying. "Will!" she breathed in relief, moving to him quickly as Will set Max down. She embraced him, feeling him press tender kisses on her cheek. "Are you alright?" she asked, pulling away to look into his eyes.

Will didn't answer; instead, his eyes found Cyrus'. His already existing pain mixed with irritation, jealousy and protectiveness as he saw him alone with his family. "Why are you in here?" Will demanded.

Cyrus stood from his place by Emma's side. "I have a right to be," Cyrus replied cooly.

"Not any more," Will growled, lifting Emma into his arms as she approached him, Max staying by his side.

"Will!" Cara exclaimed in shock.

"They're my blood," Cyrus warned, eying Will. "You've got no right to keep me from them."

"They're _my _family," Will replied darkly. "I've got every right."

"Enough!" Cara shouted, glaring at both of them. "Will, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"I need to be alone with the three of you," Will said, his eyes locked on Cyrus.

"You won't keep me away from them, William," Cyrus stated in anger. "No matter what you think."

"Out," Will ordered.

"William!" Cara exclaimed.

"I'll leave when I'm good and ready!" Cyrus shouted back.

"NOW!" Will fumed, his pain from the events earlier affecting his better judgment.

"Will, that's enough!" Cara snapped. "You're being absurd!"

"I need to talk to _my_ family and I don't need him here for it," Will sneered.

As Cara was ready to defend Cyrus once again, Cyrus took her hand gently. "It's alright," he interrupted, gazing down at Cara, who shook her head. "Yes, Caraline," he murmured. "It's fine." Cyrus looked over at Will, still holding on to Cara's hands. "I'll give you this one, William," Cyrus cautioned. "Only because I'd rather the children not see this or Caraline have to take sides. After all, it's your arrogance and selfishness causing both."

With a small squeeze of Cara's hand, Cyrus left, clicking the door shut behind himself. Immediately after Will set down Emma, Cara smacked Will's arm with force. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded.

"Listen," Will said firmly, "I just want to be alone with you three, alright? I don't need him interfering."

"He's my brother, Will! He's their uncle!" Cara argued.

"Half brother," Will corrected.

Cara shook her head in disappointment. "You're unbelievable," she said softly, fuming.

"Look, Cara-"

"No, Will! I'm not letting you get away with this! You're being an-"

"John and Monica are gone," Will interrupted with a growl, turning away from his wife and children with a shudder, his head drooping.

"W-what?" Cara stammered.

"They're gone," Will breathed, angry at himself for revealing the news in such a shocking and awkward manner. "They … were trying to get fuel. They were caught in a fire from a missile shot into Shilah's truck."

Cara shut her eyes, the tears still leaking out. "Oh my God," she whispered.

"Mommy," Max said, "are they coming back?"

Cara turned to her son, kneeling down beside him as she combed her fingers through his hair. "No, baby," she replied, pulling her son and daughter close to her, watching Will's broad back that was to her. "They went to heaven."

"Oh," Max said with sadness. "But … why didn't they say goodbye before they went?"

Cara's lip trembled. "Sometimes, when people go to heaven, they leave by surprise." She kissed her son's forehead, then her daughter's.

"Maybe because they are special," Emma concluded. "Maybe God really likes them and wants to see them and he couldn't wait."

"That is very true, Emma," Cara whispered. She drew both of the children close to her, seeing Emma yawn, Max stifling one soon after. "Hey, why don't you two try to get some sleep, okay?" she said gently, stroking their hair. "Come on." She guided them to the smaller of the two beds on the other side of the room, removing their shoes and tucking them in carefully. "I know you guys must be tired," she said, examining their eyes as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"Mommy?" Emma whispered.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Can Uncle Cyrus snuggle with us?"

Cara paused; she hadn't expected that. "Um …"

"Please?" Max asked.

"Not right now," Cara finally said, glancing at Will, who had laid himself in the larger bed across the room. "Maybe later, okay?"

"Okay," the twins mumbled in unison, scooting closer to each other as sleep quickly began to overtake them.

Cara sighed, wiping her tears away as she made her way to Will. She wanted to yell at him for acting like a jerk to Cyrus, but she knew his attitude and words had been driven by the horrific news he blurted out unintentionally. "Will?" she whispered, touching him carefully, his back to her.

"Are they sleeping?" he asked, not moving.

"Yes," Cara answered.

"Take your shoes off," Will directed softly. She complied, watching Will move away toward the wall in the bed that was pressed up against it. She laid down. "Did you and the kids eat?" he asked after rolling over. She felt him pull the blankets over her. She nodded. "Good."

"What about you?" she asked, stroking his cheek.

"Not hungry," Will replied, seeming to look straight through her.

"Will-"

He closed his mouth over hers, swallowing her words as he hungrily fed on her lips. She felt him move over her, his palms flat into the mattress on either side of her head. "Will," she breathed when he parted to kiss her neck. "Will, we need to talk."

"No, we don't," Will murmured into her neck, moving lower.

"We do," Cara corrected, lifting his face up gently.

Will shook his head. "I can't talk right now, Cara," Will insisted. He kissed her again, more urgently this time.

"The kids," she mumbled against his mouth.

"The kids are asleep."

"Will-"

"Cara," Will begged, sighing. "I can't possibly even begin to cover this day in words. And I've already had to willingly leave you twice, which has nearly killed me by itself, let alone all the other stuff. Please … just … please just let me be with you. Everything else can wait. This can't."

She felt stiff in his arms, trying to release the tension that had built in her muscles over his harsh revelation of his feelings toward her brother. The feather light touch of his hands moved over her, his warmth coasting through her skin. His lips traced abstract lines on their journey over her neck and clavicle, the hungry rumble of his subtle moan of anticipation filling her ear. She forced herself through her anger to try to relax, though she truly wanted to just scream at him. She was conflicted, his touch both comforting and painful. Never before had she felt taken advantage of by Will until this moment, and the sickening feeling struck her all at once, making her feel dirty and strange.

"Mommy?" they heard Emma call, her voice shaking. Will shut his eyes, clamping down on his bottom lip as he gracefully moved away from Cara, a parting kiss finding her cheek as she quickly sat up. She was relieved to go to Emma's aid, her heart and mind clouded and confused with Will's advances.

"What's wrong, baby?" Cara said sweetly as she sat down on the edge of the small bed Emma and Max were in.

"Are you going to heaven soon?" Emma whispered.

"Oh, baby," Cara murmured, drawing Emma close. "No, sweetheart. I'm not going to heaven yet."

"Is Daddy?"

"No, baby. Not yet."

"If you and Daddy went to heaven … where would Max and me live?" Emma asked.

"That's not going to happen, so don't you worry about it," Cara assured.

"Are you sure, Mommy?"

Cara swallowed. "Of course," she said with as much confidence as she could muster. "Now, get some rest, okay?"

Emma snuggled back down into the bed next to Max, who was still sleeping. Cara tucked the covers around her, giving her a kiss. "Rest, baby," she encouraged, combing the bright curls away from Emma's eyes, watching the little girl nestle down into the sleep that soon claimed her.

Cara returned to the bed, seeing Will staring up at the ceiling in deep thought. "She okay?" he asked, his eyes fixed on the popcorn surface above them.

Cara nodded. "She wanted to know if we were going to heaven soon."

Will's eyes closed, his lips pressing together in anger. "They deserve better than this," he murmured. "So do you."

Cara climbed in next to him, laying her head down on his chest tentatively, Will's arms wrapping tightly around her. "We'll be alright," she replied, her hand finding the top of his stomach and resting there. Her body moved with his breath, the gentle rhythm failing to soothe and comfort her though she wanted it to. She wanted to pretend how she felt moments before never happened, but the feelings quickly resurfaced, making her stiff in his embrace.

"What did you tell her?" Will asked.

"I told her we weren't going anywhere."

Will didn't respond. Instead, he drew Cara closer, leaning up to kiss her cheek. "Will," he heard her say tenderly, "we need to talk."

"I don't want to right now."

"Will, you can't do this alone."

"Do what?"

"This … the war. The fight. You need allies. As many as you can get."

Will sighed with annoyance. "I don't trust him, Cara," he grumbled. "Please respect that."

"How can I?" Cara asked, propping herself up on her elbow to look at him. "How can I respect that you won't even give my only remaining blood relative a chance?"

"How can you accept his story so easily?" Will asked, leaning toward her to look at her. "Where's his proof?"

"You certainly didn't need proof to know your parents were yours," Cara snapped. "And as I recall, neither did I."

"That's not the same."

"Tell me how it's not the same!"

"Cara-"

"No," Cara said firmly, getting up from the bed. "I'm tired of this, Will. The double standards, the exceptions I have always needed to make for you, your needs first. Everything I've done for you, given up for you, stood by you through, encouraged you to have … yet, when it comes to a bit of happiness for me, it's too much to ask."

"Cara-" Will sat and stood up, feeling angry at her reaction to his worries.

"Will, never _once_ have I ever made you doubt your parents or their relationship to you. I followed you across the country … first to John and Monica's house, then willingly to Oregon to pursue people you didn't even know existed!" Cara kept her voice quiet, knowing the children were sleeping. She put her hands firmly on her hips. "I'm not doing this anymore. I'm not blindly walking in your path without any regards for my feelings or myself or my children! My children deserve family. They deserve happiness. They deserve an uncle who wants to dote on them and love them and adore them. They don't, however, deserve a selfish and untrusting father who creates a one-sided relationship with his wife."

Will moved closer to Cara, seeing her hold her hands out. "No, Will," she whispered, shaking her head.

"Don't do this, Cara," Will begged.

"No." She stopped him again, keeping the distance between them. "You need to go."

"What are you talking about?" Will asked, stunned.

"I need to be alone. You need to leave." Cara's voice was firm though inside she was shaking fiercely.

"Cara-"

"Leave, Will. I need to be alone and I'm not going anywhere."

Furiously, Will threw his boots on and left the room, Cara's tears escaping as she laid in the bed alone. She could still feel Will's heat he had made in the cotton sheets lingering. Her bottom lip quivered as she wept silently, angry at her husband for his selfishness, wondering if what she had told Cyrus was a lie she had believed all along. Did Will treat her well? Did he value her as much as she did him? Or was their relationship a farce - a one-sided benefit for Will when he needed what she had to offer?

She had never considered herself used by him in the past, but in those moments laying in quiet sadness on a strange bed in a strange home because of a cause she blindly followed and supported him in, she began to recall everything that had happened since last January, the rush of events filling her mind with even more doubt and anger toward Will. She left her job, her home, her belongings, her family, her freedom and good name and followed him into the heart of the beast more than once on pure whims. He never provided solid evidence or concrete reasoning for his actions. He just did them, expecting her to follow along. She had sacrificed her safety for him more times than she cared to remember, her body permanently scarred for her troubles.

She recalled Joy and how he failed to trust her instinct on her, he forcing her to accept the woman's presence within her home for months despite her overwhelming worries about her. Cyrus had given him no such reason for distrust. Will was just jealous, plain and simple - jealous that Cara wasn't all to himself, that the world didn't solely revolve around him.

In her anger, everything became Will's fault, even the war that was now begun. Everything she ever had, every chance at happiness outside of Will had been destroyed by Will himself, he pulling her away from the little she did have over six months ago in the name of protection. Had she been safe, though? Wasn't she kidnapped, tortured, beaten and raped? Wasn't she shot at and had her womb ripped open against her will? Wasn't she nearly raped again only days ago? Before, she dare not tell him it wasn't the first time something like that had happened to her while she struggled to provide for the children he impregnated her with. She didn't regret the children at all, but she did regret the life they now had to live.

In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to pound on Will's face until he recognized what he had done to her. She wanted to scream at him until he listened, until he understood what he was doing to her. Yet, she didn't move, resigning herself to the foreign bed with unexplained defeat; she began to wonder through her tears if she had finally lost sight of herself.

* * *

Will stormed out into the common area with quiet anger, ripping open the door to the refrigerator as if he were home instead of in a foreign place. He snatched a bottle of water he assumed Emma cleansed, since no one who was watching him said otherwise, drinking it quickly and wiping his lips with the back of his hand. He felt his parents' eyes on him, as well as Shilah's. He also knew Cyrus was present, which irritated him even further. "William?" Mulder asked quietly, approaching him.

"I'm fine," Will said firmly, his back to his father.

"Are you sure?"

"I said, I'm fine," Will snapped, turning to his father. His eyes passed Mulder's and fell on Cyrus' immediately over Mulder's shoulder, Cyrus sitting quietly in the back corner of the room. "I don't want him alone with Cara or the kids," Will ordered, holding Cyrus' gaze. Cyrus stood defensively, obviously angry with Will's suggestion of a restriction.

"Come off it, William!" Cyrus growled. "You're so damn jealous for no bloody reason!"

"Jealous?" Will asked with a cool laugh. "The last thing I am is jealous of you."

"You think you'd be happy for Caraline," Cyrus said with astonishment. "Instead, you're acting on a level lower than your preschool son, who obviously doesn't get his maturity from his father."

Will lunged at Cyrus, this time Mulder failing to stop him. He grabbed Cyrus' shirt and slammed him up against the wall. "Go on!" Cyrus goaded. "Take a shot! Prove me right, William!" Cyrus looked straight into Will's eyes, unafraid of Will's power. "Beat me all you want, but you can't change the fact that she cares about me, or that I care about her and the children."

Will wanted to pound on Cyrus but refrained himself from giving in to his desire to. "You've lost a lot," Cyrus said quietly, still being gripped by Will. "John and Monica were good people. I didn't know them as well as you or your parents, but I do know they risked life and limb for me and it's something I'll never forget." Cyrus inhaled deeply, feeling Will's grip relax on him slightly. "Your children need all the safety they can find right now, mate. So does Caraline."

"Except, I don't know a damn thing about you," Will sneered, his grip tightening again. "So as far as I'm concerned, they're safer without you." Will shoved Cyrus against the wall as he released him, turning away from him.

"I'm not leaving, William," Cyrus reminded firmly. He saw Will pause with his back turned; Cyrus' fist tightened at his side. "You won't keep them from me."

"Watch me," Will replied darkly.


	16. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

It was hours after the scuffle with Cyrus that Will dared to resurface into the common room, his hunger controlling him rather than his desire to face Cara or deal with her brother. He was starving - he hadn't eaten for nearly two days and his last meal was a meager helping of smoked fish that had been smoked for far too long by the ship's chef.

His stomach immediately began to churn in both anticipation of the rabbit meat he smelled as well as in regret. His eyes fell on Cara as she sat with Max and Emma, making sure they ate a hearty dinner of the cooked rabbit and corn pudding that had been provided through safe, Navajo sources. Shilah had brought them to this house because he knew they would be able to provide food and shelter, both of which was a tremendous relief for the group, especially now in light of Doggett's and Reyes' tragic deaths.

He hadn't meant to make Cara so upset earlier, but Will knew he was successful at doing just that when she refused to look into his eyes as he sank into a seat across from her, grateful Cyrus was nowhere nearby. "Cara," he began softly, seeing her cut the rabbit off of the bone for the children without acknowledging him. "Look, I'm sorry about before."

"Sorry doesn't even begin to cut it, Will," Cara replied, still focused on the task at hand.

"I know," Will admitted with a sigh. "I ... I'm just worried about you three. I care about each of you so much that I just ... I just can't help being overprotective."

"This isn't a conversation I want to have right now, Will," Cara stated, portioning out the rabbit she cut for the children, who immediately gobbled it up after a rushed prayer of grace over the food.

"Cara-"

"Later," she interrupted, eying him. "Not now."

"Why not?" Will asked. He was confused - they were alone, everyone else in the living room part of the home while they remained on the other side in the eat-in kitchen.

"Will, not everything is on your terms," Cara corrected. "Get used to that concept."

Will was irritated at Cara's shortness. Unaware of his intensity, he grabbed her forearm, surprising her. "Look, I'm just trying to have a conversation with you. I don't need you running away from me and disappearing into your head like you always do."

"Me?" Cara asked in disbelief, glaring at Will. "_You're_ the one who never wants to talk! But now that you do, I need to drop everything I'm doing and be there for you, is that it?"

"I didn't say that-"

"Yes-" Cara yanked her arm away from Will. "-you did."

Will squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. "Alright, fine," he said sharply. "Fine. You want to do this? Let's do it then, alright?"

"I'm not _doing_ anything, Will!"

"Oh yes you are!"

"And what is it I'm _doing_, exactly?"

"You're making me out to be some kind of bad guy!" Will argued. His voice grew louder, drawing the attention from the other room. "All I want is to protect my wife and children! Sorry if that's unacceptable to you or too 'restrictive' for you."

"Not everything is about _you_, Will!" Cara exclaimed, her voice raising as well.

"I never said it was!"

"You just made this whole thing about you! You always make it about you!" Cara stood, ushering Max and Emma forward into the living room, seeing they were done with their food. The children reluctantly left, visibly bothered by their parents fighting. "You know," Cara said, turning back to Will, who now stood near her, "for once in our relationship, Will, this might - _just might_ - be about _me_ and how _I_ feel. NOT YOU!"

It happened quickly; how Will took Cara's hand to plead with her for understanding, how she resisted and fought, how Cyrus came from the side where the hall was to the bedrooms and tackled Will in angry defense of his sister, the words "let go" to Will barely leaving Cara's lips. Cara was shoved aside, Will's back slammed into the floor as Cyrus knocked him across the jaw with a hard right. He was then flipped off of Will easily, his own back crashing into the wall nearby. She couldn't move fast enough to stop him; Will lunged on Cyrus with rage and hatred as he returned Cyrus' blow with one of his own, a left hook that immediately made Cyrus bleed from his busted lip.

It took Mulder, Shilah and one other man who lived in the home to pry Will off of Cyrus, two more struggling to hold Cyrus back as Cara watched in utter shock. The twins clung to Scully, who ushered them away from the scene protectively as Mulder tried to calm Will down. "Enough!" Mulder ordered, holding his son tightly. "For fuck's sake, William, THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"Touch my sister again, Yank, and I swear I'll finish you!" Cyrus warned.

"HEY!" Mulder snapped to Cyrus. "That's enough from BOTH of you!"

"Stay out of my relationship with _my wife_!" Will yelled back.

"I said," Mulder shouted, "THAT'S ENOUGH!" No one moved for a moment, the two young men breathing in angered silence across from each other. "Both of you, cool down!" Mulder glared at Will, then Cyrus. "Now, what the hell is going on?" he asked Cara, not trusting either of the young men to give an accurate picture.

"Will is being an ass," Cara snapped, glaring at her husband. "That's what's going on." She walked away, taking the children with her and going back to the bedroom area she had occupied before, shutting the door behind herself.

"Listen to me," Mulder warned both of the men after Cara left, "if you two can't exist in the same space when we let you go, then I suggest you take this war of yours outside where it belongs." Mulder was angry, his tone harsh. "Those children don't need to be frightened over your behavior. And no one else here needs to or wants to witness both of your incredible stupidity and lack of priority when it comes to what is important right now." Mulder shoved Will out of his arms, Cyrus being flung from the other men. He walked back into the living room in disgust, taking Scully's hand and pulling her to sit on the couch with him.

Will and Cyrus stared each other down, each allowing Mulder's words to sink into their minds as their heart rates lowered, their hands relaxing out of tightened fists by their sides. With a sigh, Will glanced to the hallway Cara had disappeared down into, startled by Cyrus' soft question. "What do you want to know, William?" he asked. "I just want to put this past us. If it means parading every bloody skeleton around from my closet, then so be it."

Will eyed Cyrus. "Fine," Will growled, gesturing roughly toward the door. "Let's go."

Cyrus' eyebrow arched. "Go where?"

"Outside," Will replied, his jaw locked tightly as he watched Cyrus walk past him through the doorway. He followed, shutting the steel door behind himself as he followed Cyrus up the staircase and into the garage.

* * *

Cyrus turned and faced Will once the doorway to the normal house's kitchen above the underground hideaway was shut. "So are we talking or are you going to rearrange my face?" Cyrus asked ruefully.

"While I'd personally enjoy the later, I'd prefer my wife didn't hate me," Will replied with darkness, crossing his arms over his chest. "So talk."

"What do you want to know?"

"The truth."

"About ...?"

"You."

"I gather Caraline didn't share anything with you, then?"

Will shrugged in annoyance. "Didn't ask."

Cyrus sighed. "Right. Well, I was born and raised in Brisbane, and-"

"No, get to the heart of it," Will interrupted. "Where have you been?"

"You mean, why haven't I shown my face since the night at the pub?"

"Sure. Whatever."

"Didn't know where she was. Besides, even when I did, I couldn't," Cyrus said flatly, watching Will carefully. "It would've been too risky for Caraline to know who I was. I'd made too many enemies."

"What kind of enemies?" Will asked.

"The kind you make when you sell bad information to get what you want," Cyrus replied, seeing Will finally look at him. "Look, my methods to making the camp weren't from the book, but I never hurt anyone to get the job done. No one besides myself, anyway."

Will's curiosity was genuinely peaked. "What bad intel did you sell and what was it in exchange for?"

" I sold info about the Censure, mostly," Cyrus explained. "Loose leads and vague tips that once confirmed left people pretty angry. I did it to find provisions for the camp, weapons, vials of the vaccine, and later to build contacts. To get names of others who were in on the underground scene. People who could connect me to your father."

"So you could find Cara," Will murmured.

Cyrus nodded. "That's how I got in touch with Nightwatcher. Though his price was fairly steep."

"What was his price?"

Cyrus didn't answer right away. "He wanted me to nick off one of the other contacts I had made that we mutually shared," he finally said. "I couldn't do it, though. I couldn't kill a man in cold blood. So ... I pretended I would go along with it so he'd give Fox the info to find me. When he found out I didn't kill Zeke, he became livid and tried to have me killed. Wasn't long before his anger exposed him too much and karma bit him on his arse."

"The other contact ... Zeke ... killed him," Will concluded.

"Yeah," Cyrus confirmed. "At least, that's what I think happened. I spotted your parents, John and Monica the instant they entered a fifty-mile radius of Corpus Christi. They never knew they were being followed. I had a feeling, though, that Fox was your father by the look of him, so I stopped him and made him undergo a few tests." Cyrus smiled. "I made him quote Shakespeare," he explained, seeing Will's distress. "I figured an Oxford man would know literature. Shakespeare was my mum's favorite. Needless to say he passed my rather weak interrogation and I brought him into the fold, only to be betrayed by my own Shield 'brothers,' if you will. And here I am."

"Why did they betray you?"

"We had a stock of Purity vaccine in safe keeping, and I stole three units of it to exchange for a Pacific coast ship manifest. That turned out to be a trick. I was duped."

"Why did you need a ship manifest?"

"When I realized Caraline wasn't with your father, I panicked. I knew she'd be along the coast. I knew she'd be smart and stay where the food is. I figured the Pacific since she was most likely with you and there's more magnetite along that region than the Atlantic and if she was with you, you'd keep her near it to be safe. I knew she wouldn't have left the country, at least I was gambling that she wouldn't."

Will was silent as he looked at Cyrus. "You planted Brody Wesson, didn't you?" he asked after a while.

Cyrus nodded. "It was all I could do to keep Caraline safe after she flew back to New Jersey. I had to pull a few strings but it worked for a while at least. When she left after Brody's funeral, I lost track of her. Shitty thing is, Shields are designed to _not_ be found, not even by their own kind. Only through physical presence." He sighed. "That's when the dirty work for contacts began. Buying and selling, trying to pick up any leads I could." He eyed Will. "You kept her under pretty tight lock and key."

"I was trying to keep her safe," Will said, his eyebrow raising at his own statement. "Didn't do too good of a job, though."

"You did what you could," Cyrus offered.

Will looked away with a deep breath, surprised he was finding empathy for Cyrus and much as it surprised him that Cyrus found empathy for him. "So, now you want to be part of her life," he stated flatly.

"She _is_ my life," Cyrus corrected. "Her and the little ones. They're all I've got. They're all I've ever cared to pursue since I learned about each of them." He watched Will carefully. "Look, William - I'm behind you one-hundred percent on this war. Ask your son if you don't believe me. My goal is the same as yours - to rid the world of the scum that controls it." He stepped closer. "But right now, if anyone's going to be asking some questions, it'll be me," he remarked, feeling agitated at the thought of what he needed to know from Will.

"Such as ...?" Will asked, beginning to feel defensive again.

"Let's start first with how you knocked up my little sis, yeah?" Cyrus stated, his eyes narrowing.

"Cara was my best friend for seven years before we were together," Will defended.

"Yet you didn't think it pertinent to use protection?"

"I wasn't prepared to at the time," Will replied with irritation.

"Exactly my concern," Cyrus snapped as he folded his arms over his chest.

"We are married," Will insisted.

"Just because you put a ring on her finger doesn't mean anything," Cyrus argued.

"Look," Will nearly yelled, "what we chose or choose to do isn't any of your business."

"Actually, it is. See, you're the man who is suppose to be taking care of my sister and if he can't even get his shit together enough to keep her well-being a priority, then I take issue with that."

"Her well-being _is_ my priority."

"Then do yourself a favor, Yank. Get your sorry ass back in there and talk to her, for Christ's sake. Stop running away from the confrontation."

"I'm not running away, first of all," Will replied angrily. "And secondly, I don't need relationship advice from _you_ of all people."

"Right," Cyrus sneered, "I forgot. You're the expert on women, yeah? Your current methods certainly seem to be working smashingly for you." His tone was sarcastic.

Will glared at Cyrus. "Stay out of my affairs."

"They're as much mine as they are yours," Cyrus replied cooly. "And how does it work that I've got my story on the table but you haven't told yours yet?"

"Because I'm not the one in question."

"To me you are." Cyrus' tone carried a reminder. "See, I need to trust you as well."

"You haven't known her hardly at all!" Will retorted. "What gives you the right to judge me?"

"The same bloody reason you've got!" Cyrus yelled. "Even more of one since she's my sister!"

"Here's a little fact about me," Will taunted, stepping near Cyrus. "I can kill you in two seconds flat if I wanted to, so I suggest you back off."

"I'm not an easy kill, mate," Cyrus replied, accepting the physical challenge and closing the gap between them. "You think I'd have survived super soldiers if I was?"

"What they can do is child's play compared to me," Will said with a grin intended to intimidate.

"I'm not afraid of you, Yank," Cyrus said with a smile of his own.

"You should be."

"Is that a threat?"

"Call it whatever you want."

"I'd rather just call your bluff."

The door to the garage slammed, Cara eying the two men who quickly faced her. "Will, your father wants you," she said, analyzing the two alpha males with disappointed disgust.

With a parting glare, Will turned and left, knowing Cyrus was irritated behind him, which made him satisfied as he followed Cara down the staircase and into the underground hideaway.

* * *

"William," Mulder said quickly when he and Cara entered, Cyrus lagging behind them, "look."

The television was on, the picture slightly grainy from the age of the set. It was a news broadcast, live feed from Washington D.C. Censurians were decked in full uniform behind an older uniformed replacement who was speaking at the podium. "My fellow Americans," the head of the Censurian army, known as the Command (a persona representative like a president, though without true power), said with a false sense of reassurance for those who didn't know any better. "The time has come when we, as a nation, need to examine ourselves and our willingness to remain safe in preparation for a troubling time that has struck our society.

"It is painfully obvious that corruption restricts growth. It destroys the few resources that could better the infrastructure of society and strengthen public health. Corruption also weakens the country from the inside out, eroding the system of justice until there is no justice to be found, tainting the Censure forces until their presence becomes a source of insecurity rather than one of comfort."

Will eyed the television with a defensive scowl, his arms tucked firmly over his chest. He felt Cara near him, catching the way her lips parted as she took in the Command's speech.

"Corruption magnifies the very worst twists of fate. It makes it impossible to respond effectively to crises - whether it's the pandemic that has struck our country or the crippling shortage of food sources. What is worse is that corruption can also create opportunities for those who would harness the fear and hatred of others to their agenda and ambitions."

Momentarily, Will's eyes shifted to Cyrus, who stood across from him as he watched. He reflected on Cyrus' words regarding how he was behind Will with the war. Though he didn't want to admit it, he knew without invading Cyrus' mind that he was telling the truth - he was ready to stand behind Will and fight. Will wasn't ready yet to let Cyrus into the fold, but he did take comfort in Cyrus' passion for the same objective as he had.

The Command had paused for dramatic effect. "There are those among you who have doubted the sovereignty of the Censure and what it represents," he continued. "There are those who would rather cloud your minds with false information that is loosely based on heresay, gossip, conspiracy theories and myths. There are those among you capable of taking lives without question of morals or decency in the name of justice, when they only seek to better themselves. It is time we stand united and remember our common commitment to bettering everyone at the same rate, in the same way.

"Our society will crumble if we divide our focus, if we believe the lies fed to us by rogue citizens who desire nothing but ultimate power and control. Do not give in to their cause, but stay true to the values of the Censure. For those who follow the Censure are sure to be protected against all odds. The person, the killer responsible for this-" The feed cut to an image of the San Francisco Port and the burning stacks of bodies, Cara and the other who didn't see it before horrified at the images. "-he, he alone is to blame for such tragic and devastating loss of life. He wishes for nothing more than domination for ultimate power, hiding behind false promises.

"Do not believe in the lies. We, the Censure, have and will continue to protect the interests of all citizens despite any attempts made by the demon responsible for these atrocities to gain power. It is up to you, the people, to fight against this violent and oppressive rebel and support the Censure.

"We ask if you have any information on this man-" The screen showed an image of Will, a gasp swallowed down by Cara, "-William Mulder, that you contact the Censure immediately. Together, we can bring this man to justice. Together, we the people can stand against his violence and rebellion. Together, we can be stronger than William Mulder."

The television screen faded to an eerie black. Each of the adults who watched the broadcast realized the time had finally come when the Censure fully monopolized the media, television sets useless unless they were broadcasting propaganda. It was only the beginning - they knew that the Censure would soon own everything and everyone in the name of security for the people. Silence lingered, hanging from the room with a weighted presence. It was official - war had been declared, and Will had become the entire country's target.

In light of the broadcast, her fight with Will seemed petty and unimportant, Cara's hand searching by her side to take his. She was grateful that the children were playing in the bedroom, not witnessing the broadcast. She felt Will's strong grip and she shivered from the words the Command had spoken that struck her at her core.

He didn't care what had happened or what he needed to do to have her. He would make nice with Cyrus if it meant Cara was with him. Will wrapped his arms around Cara, drawing her to him with pained recognition of what it all meant. His caress was familiar on her; the way he kissed his favorite spot on her neck and buried his nose in her silky hair comforted her.

A few moments passed, no one speaking as they let the words settle into their hearts and minds. "We need to get on the road tonight," Will finally said, looking to Shilah as he held Cara to himself. "We all need to prepare to leave in the middle of the night. Cover as much ground as we can in the dark."

Mulder nodded in agreement. "We will leave at two," he stated. "I suggest we all pack food and supplies and try to rest beforehand. We will take two cars, Cara in one and Cyrus in another." Mulder looked quickly to Cyrus. "We need a Shield in each," he explained, receiving a nod from Cyrus; he, too, had set aside his anger toward Will in light of the broadcast and the reality check they each received.

"Right," Cyrus said. "I'll take first shift for driving."

"Shilah," Will said softly, "you'll ride with us. Mom, Dad and Cyrus can ride together." Will looked to the other people, Shilah's Navajo friends, who had lent their home and food. "I can't begin to thank you enough for what you've done for all of us."

"Take all of what you need," the older man who sat quietly in the corner said with a nod. "We will have no need for it soon."

Will's lips pressed together in recognition of what the man was implying. "Tell them what they need to know so you may live," Will insisted emotionally, still holding Cara.

The older man smiled. "We will tell them nothing," he stated proudly.

"Then follow us."

"Our home is here."

"You can't-"

"We will tell them nothing," the older man said firmly, holding Will's gaze. "That is the only way we will truly be able to live."

Will shut his eyes, gripping Cara a little more tightly. "Let's get ready," Mulder said, glancing around the room. "We need to pack food and siphon fuel from the cars in the garage into our SUVs."

"I'm going to go see that the kids sleep," Cara whispered, slipping out of Will's arms. Will watched her walk away, pained to let her go, her touch the only thing keeping him sane.

"William," he heard Cyrus say gently, turning to him. "If it's alright, I'll be getting busy on the siphoning."

Will stared at Cyrus for a moment, realizing Cyrus was attempting to ignore the quarrel that lived between them. "Sure," Will murmured, nodding in agreement. "Thanks."

He watched Cyrus slip back toward the garage, then caught sight of how everyone seeming to operate on autopilot as they gathered food, water, blankets, medical supplies and clean clothes, stuffing bags and wrapping meals, working in tandem silence. For a moment, he saw the faces of the people who watched him be whipped, the eyes of men, women and children finding hope in his strength and his fight. He prayed that they still did.

* * *

There wasn't much to prepare, so the tasks were completed fairly quickly, the trucks loaded and people filing off to savor a shower then sleep though it was early in the evening. It was getting dark by the time Will had finished with his shower, he choosing to be last so everyone else could finish earlier and get more sleep. He carefully entered the bedroom Cara and the children were in, the door just shy of shutting behind him when he heard Max's voice.

"Daddy?" Max asked, sitting up in the twin bed he was sharing with Emma.

"Yeah, buddy?" Will asked, his hair still damp as he sat next to his son.

"Are you in trouble?"

Will inhaled slowly. "Yeah, sort of, Max."

"Why?"

"Because those men that didn't listen to me before about being bad ... They are mad at what I've said about them."

Max pondered his father's reason. "Daddy," Max whispered, "I'll protect you from the bad men."

Will smiled. "I don't want you worrying about that," he replied. "I'll be just fine."

"But Mommy said you couldn't fight by yourself."

Will nodded. "You're right. I can't. I need people to help."

"I can help!"

"And you very well may, Max. But for now, I want you to rest and not worry about anything, okay?"

"Okay." Max began to lay back down but popped up again when Will started to leave his side after a kiss to his son's forehead. "Daddy?" Max whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Can ... Can Emmie and me snuggle with Grandma and Grandpa?" Max paused. "Mommy is sad, so I don't think she wants to snuggle. And I-"

"Let me ask them, okay?" Will interrupted gently, swallowing his pride for his son's sake. He wanted nothing more than to make his children feel safe, and if snuggling with his parents instead of him and Cara was what it meant, then he would make it happen.

"Thanks, Daddy," Max said with a smile.

* * *

Mulder and Scully gratefully took in Emma and Max into their bed to sleep, leaving Will and Cara alone in the room. As Will clicked the door shut from leaving the kids with his parents, he could feel the tension lingering and instantly knew he couldn't run away or ignore it. He had to face it, he had to admit his weakness to Cara. "Cara?" Will whispered, unable to completely see her in the darkened room while his eyes adjusted.

"I'm up," he heard her murmur.

Will climbed in behind her, Cara moving toward the wall as he wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear. "I'm sorry I haven't been fair to you. Or to Cyrus." He kissed her cheek gently. "You've given so much for me ... and all I do is keep taking. I want to give you so much happiness but I'm so afraid of what I don't know. And it means that you suffer. You suffer the loss of happiness because of me."

She turned to face him, her hand finding his cheek. "Will ... I love you. I always have and I always will."

"It doesn't mean that I've done what is worthy to receive it." He tucked hair behind her ear. "I am going to trust in your brother. I promise you that. I'll be better for you. For Max and Emma."

"There ... has been a lot today," Cara whispered, moving closer. The sincerity of his eyes filled her heart, the Will she knew and loved so deeply coming through the broken, hardened surface that had covered him for so long. "I've never even asked ... about when they ..."

"Don't," Will interrupted gently, still fingering her hair. "I ... It's too evil. You don't need that on you now."

"Will, stop protecting me," Cara argued. "Stop keeping things from me. This is how we got into all of this mess to begin with."

She heard his deep breath and felt how his hand found the warm skin of her lower back, stroking it as he spoke. "I saw their faces, the people who died," Will said with a swallow. "Their eyes ... I felt all of their fear, all at once. It kept me fighting, their fear. I wanted to fight so they wouldn't be afraid."

Cara wiped the tear that dripped down Will's cheek, her heart breaking for him. "You gave them hope, Will." Her thumb found another one of his tears, rubbing it away. "You inspired them to stand up for themselves."

"They died," Will trembled. He sighed. "I've seen death before. I've even taken life before. This ... this was ... this was nothing like I've ever seen before. I'm so used to people wanting to kill me that I feel guilty for the people who died to protect me."

"They chose it, Will," Cara reminded. "They chose to fight injustice." Will nodded, kissing her cheek. "Thank you for sharing that with me," she breathed. His lips moving slowly over her cheek was his response; he didn't know what to say. "How about we talk about something else," Cara suggested, feeling the brush of stiff stubble against her face. She could tell he was still consumed.

"Such as?" Will asked, his mind still on the faces of the people at the docks as he kissed her, grateful to be able to do so.

"Why we are fighting," Cara whispered. "Freedom."

"Will we ever get there?" Will questioned with genuine concern, his face wrinkling boyishly as he considered failure.

"I want to believe we will."

"What if we don't?" His eyes searched hers; her heart pained for his worry.

"We have to believe in the truth, no matter what."

His left hand cupped her cheek; the absence of his braided cord bracelet made his heart ache. "You're my truth. You complete me," Will said, holding Cara's face tenderly. "I'm _nothing_ without you."

Her lips sought his out, locking with his in heated tenderness. A familiar warmth began to rise inside of her as he buried his fingers into her thick hair, cradling her head as he deepened their kiss. In a move that surprised him, Cara pushed Will onto his back and pulled her body over his, her knees digging into the mattress as she pressed her hips on his. His hands left her hair and traced down her shoulders, a groan vibrating in his throat as she came into contact with him. They resumed their kiss, Will happily running his hands over Cara's body while simultaneously undressing her as much as he could.

Through their tangled passion, Will became consumed with the images he had stirred up from earlier that day. Every time his eyes shut, he saw the people that had surrounded him as he was chained to the magnetite pillar. When she moaned from his touch, he heard their cries of war, their shouts of rebellion. His heart raced as he lavished her with kisses, marking her skin with gentle nips as the people remained, he unable to rid them from his mind. Her nails scraping down his back burned like the crack of the whip though his skin was healed. Her gasps of pleasure felt like the air that had left him when the leather sliced through him. Her silky smooth skin that was fully revealed in all of its glory to him was becoming moistened with sweat, the same sweat that had coated his brow as he was made into an example by the Censurians. He watched her bite her bottom lip as he completed them both, the tender flesh growing red with rushing blood, like the blood he scrubbed off of his skin in the shower. He remained over her, her legs securely around his waist, the weight of them like the chains that bound him to the stone that burned him. With every movement and every breath, they haunted him, the people crying out in terror as she cried out his name. Again, and then again. He closed his eyes, his voice shaking as he allowed his own release in tandem with hers, the people finally leaving him as he was swallowed by the light they both created.

"Will?" Cara whispered a while later when he withdrew and wrapped her in his arms under the threadbare cotton blanket.

"Yeah?" he murmured.

She paused, choosing to keep what she heard him say in the throes of passion to herself, though she was startled by his words. "Nothing," she said, pressing herself closer to him, silently willing him to sleep. The words kept her awake, though. They rang through her mind with uncertainty.

_Forgive me. _


	17. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

11:04 PM EST

"The broadcast was well-received," the Command said quietly, the gray smoke billowing near his eyes from the Smoking Man across from him. "We're estimating a seventy-five percent success rate."

The Smoking Man drug on the cigarette in silence. He had shed his jacket already, the tie around his neck loosened a bit. He leaned back thoughtfully in his high-backed swivel chair, the lit cigarette clutched in his right hand. "There's still twenty-five percent, then," he observed with disappointment, the stem moving to his lips.

"The majority stands behind us," the Command reminded.

"The majority isn't enough," the Smoking Man snapped. "It's all or nothing. No gray areas."

"Sir, we can't possibly eliminate the gray areas."

"We can," the Smoking Man insisted, exhaling. "And we will."

"How? We've exhausted our avenues with food transportation of the virus. People are wising up."

"Then let's give them something they're unable to avoid."

"Such as …?"

The Smoking Man smiled. "An enemy that cannot be easily defeated." He dragged on the cigarette, his smiling widening. "You know, they say the original is always more effective than the remake. I think the same will be true in this method of delivery."

The Command registered what the Smoking Man was implying. "How will it be handled in the public eye?"

"When it rains, it pours," the Smoking Man replied casually. "The more it rains, the more need for protection the people will have. The more protection, the more control. The more control …the less gray areas."

"Where should we begin?"

"The west coast." He paused, crushing his spent cigarette into the depths of a dirty glass ashtray. "I've got a personal message to send."

* * *

June 26, 2013  
2:04 AM PST

Cara was leery of the children only being strapped into the back seat, no car seats or boosters available to them. She buckled each of the children snuggly into the bench, reserving the middle seat for herself so she could see the road ahead as Shilah drove first, then Will, then her. The children were rather cranky when woken about fifteen minutes prior, each falling back to sleep with quick relief as Cara tucked a blanket over each of them, praying their tiny bodies would be safe.

"Ready?" she heard Shilah ask; his voice was coming from outside the car, so she wasn't sure if he was speaking to her or Will.

"Yeah, just let me talk to my dad for a second," Will replied, answering Cara's question. Cara smiled as she looked down at Emma, admiring the girl's adoration for the Navajo doll she clutched in her hand as she slept. Max had a similar affection for a small white buffalo toy, much like the one she saw on the mantle of Shilah's home so long ago that she wondered if it happened to be the same one. The older man, the elder of the home named Ken, had instructed his sons, Chris, Edward and Nathan, to dig out a box of toys from storage when Cara and the children first arrived. Cara had shaky recollected of first leaving the majority of their belongings in Alaska, then of the bags of what little they took that Will used to build a barrier to conceal Emma in while the Censure beat him. Her story had struck a chord with Ken; the small toys he felt were the least he could do for the prophesy children who seemed to hold no grudges against their parents despite losing their two prized possessions.

Cara glanced over her shoulder as she finished readying the children for the trip to Arizona, seeing Will talking with his parents. Catching Cyrus' eyes in the distance, she gently shut the car door, Shilah staying with the children as she made her way to him. Cyrus glanced hesitantly toward Will when Cara took him into an embrace. "It's okay," she whispered, hugging him. She closed her eyes as Cyrus' hands found her, holding her tightly. The firm muscles of his upper back nearly lit her fingers on fire as her hands rested on them. "Please be safe," she begged gently.

"I'm only concerned about you, Max and Emma," Cyrus replied in a whisper.

"You need to protect yourself as well."

"I'll be fine."

"Just like an older brother to worry himself for no reason over his little sister."

"Just like a little sister to remind me why I _need_ to worry."

Cara pulled back, grinning up at Cyrus. "You're a piece of work," she teased gently, fixing his hair.

"Takes one to know one," he quipped, letting her adjust his disheveled hair with a smile.

"You look so much …" Cara stopped, realizing the impact her observation would have.

"Like Dad," Cyrus finished with a grimaced nod. "I know."

"Except you have more hair," Cara joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

"I have age to thank for that, I suppose," Cyrus replied. "Hmm," he said as he analyzed Cara closely, "I'm certain the only thing you've taken from our old man are his eyes. The rest of your beauty must be the work of your mother, thank goodness."

"Dad was a good-looking man," Cara assured.

"You're just trying to make me feel better."

"He was!"

Cyrus laughed, kissing Cara's cheek. "See you at the next fuel stop." He withdrew from her arms and made his way to the waiting SUV that Will was walking away from. He caught Will's eyes briefly before hopping into the driver's seat, shutting the door behind himself.

Having spoken to Mulder and Scully when she retrieved the kids from their room, Cara went back to the other SUV with Will, Will's hand landing on her lower back. She could practically feel his possessiveness seeping from him. "See?" she said softly, unable to help herself. "I hugged him and survived."

Will shook his head, a half smile on his lips. "You're a piece of work, you know that?"

"I've been told as much."

* * *

Near Bakersfield, CA  
7:29 AM PST

The tanks were nearly three-fourths full when they left San Francisco, but several hours into their journey down the coast left them running close to empty. "Daddy?" Max said from the back seat as Shilah drove. "Uncle Cyrus says that he needs gas."

"We're going to need some, too," Shilah remarked to Will.

"Daddy, Grandpa says that the gas place on this road has a mean man," Max added.

"Alright," Will said with a sigh. "Guess we don't have much of a choice." He glanced over at Shilah. "If he's expensive, we can't possibly pay," he decided in a whisper.

Shilah shook his head. "You would have to use your power."

"I'm aware," Will replied with regret.

"It's too dangerous," Shilah disagreed.

"We might not have a choice."

"Mommy," Emma said softly in the back seat, fingering her doll's hair. "I'm hungry."

"We can eat when Daddy starts driving again, okay?" Cara offered.

"Okay," Emma frowned, sighing. "Mommy, I have to go pee-pee."

"Oh boy," Cara mumbled. "Will, we're going to need a potty break."

Will shook his head. "Not gonna be able to happen. Not right now. We've got to get in and out as fast as we can."

"Can you hold it, Emma?" Cara asked her daughter. Emma shrugged. "You need to hold it until Daddy says, okay?" She saw Emma nod, singing softly to her doll.

"Grandpa says it's that one," Max announced, pointing his finger at the window. The adults looked at the gas station approaching in the distance. Will immediately felt on edge, his mind running through the Command's speech that was intended to rally the nation against him.

"Lay low," Shilah instructed Will and Cara. "Let Cyrus, Fox and me handle it."

"Shilah-"

"Lay low," Shilah repeated firmly, pulling into the station, Cyrus following behind. The two cars parked near the pump, Shilah, Mulder and Cyrus exiting. From across the way, Cara caught Scully's eyes, sharing a worried look with her as she put her arms around the children protectively while they played with their toys, unaware of the danger they faced.

"I don't pump for redskins," the heavyset attendant who approached them with a scowl said firmly, his eyes locked on Shilah.

"Hey!" Cyrus defended. "Come off it, Yank!"

"Well if it ain't a dingo, too," the attendant sneered. He looked to Mulder. "And a Jew. A regular fucking traveling circus."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Mulder yelled.

"Nothing's wrong with me," the attendant replied with a smile.

"How much is the gas, you seppo?" Cyrus snapped.

"More than you can afford."

"Cut the crap and give us a price," Mulder demanded.

"I said," the attendant repeated, drawing a gun on the three of them, "I don't pump for redskins."

Shilah's, Cyrus' and Mulder's eyes widened when they saw the attendant fly backwards into the door of the garage behind the pumps, the gun dropping from his hands that became pinned to the wood by an invisible force. Mulder chided, seeing Will approach, "Get back in the car!"

"Get the gas, Dad," Will growled, keeping the man pinned against the wall, the attendant baffled and scared by Will's ability to control him without touching him or even being near him.

"Stealing with some kind of voodoo shit!" the attendant yelled angrily, watching Will pick up the gun he once held. "You'll be sorry when the Censure gets a call!"

"Except-" Will used his power to pull the phone from the man's pocket, focusing his energy as he tossed it several yards away. "-good luck finding your phone."

"You son of a bitch!" the attendant growled fiercely. He looked carefully at Will, his eyes widened as well as a baffled smile that spread over him. "You son of a bitch," he repeated, this time in recognition. "William Mulder. You're quite popular these days."

"And I imagine you'll make me even more popular very soon," Will noted grimly.

"Damn straight I will."

"Did you ever think about the validity of the people you're pledging your loyalty to?" Will asked, knowing the attendant did often question the Censure.

"I don't have time for your psychoanalytic bullshit!"

"Actually, you've got as long as it takes to fill both tanks." Will paused. "I know you question what they do," he revealed.

"It's none of your business," the attendant replied angrily.

"Why do it? Why support a group of liars who don't give a damn about you?"

"I'm taken care of."

"For now, while they need you. Then watch what happens to you when they don't." Will thought he was getting through to the man. "Fight against them. They have control over you. Take your control back." His tone was genuine, he wanting to help despite this theft.

The attendant looked angrily over at Shilah and Mulder filling the tanks. "What are you, Robin Hood or some shit?"

"When I need to be," Will replied.

The man glanced over at the SUV Cara was in, seeing her watching in shock. "Then that must be your Maid Marian, huh?" He laughed, seeing Will's face change. "She's a pretty little thing. Bet the Censure will have fun with her when you're caught."

"Shut up!" Will warned, pressing the man harder against the wood.

"Bet she's good in the sack," the attendant continued tauntingly, trying to weaken Will to gain an advantage. "She looks like she knows her way around. I bet she's a real screamer."

"I said, shut up!"

"What, don't like me talking about your girl, huh? Does it make you mad?"

"How much longer?" Will yelled over his shoulder, looking briefly at Mulder.

"Almost there," Mulder replied, keeping his eye on the station.

"Not so strong when we talk about little Marian," the attendant said, gaining Will's attention again. "See, no one is controlling me. But you … oh, you're painfully controlled by that fine blonde piece of ass in the car." Will was furious as he read the thoughts of the attendant. "Not that I blame you. She looks like a good ride. Better hope the Censure doesn't get wind of your weakness, though."

"Done," Mulder said, screwing the gas cap tightly in as he climbed into the driver's seat. Will was beyond livid, keeping the man pinned against the door as Cyrus and Shilah took their places in the cars.

"Have fun running, Robin Hood," the attendant called out to Will as Will walked backward toward the driver's seat of the SUV. "Keep Marian out of trouble." His laugh made Will sick as his foot slammed on the gas, the car spinning wildly away from the station, Mulder close behind.

"Will!" Cara yelled when they were a distance away. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"He had a gun," Will argued, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Cara felt Max tap her on the arm. She looked down at the boy, seeing how Max looked shocked and scared. "Mommy," Max whispered, "Daddy didn't give the man any money."

_He had no choice, Max, _Cara thought, knowing Max would hear her. _No more about it now. We'll talk about it later. _Cara heard Max sigh in defeat, her eyes locked on Will as he drove.

"Mommy, I have to pee-peeeeeee," Emma exaggerated, squeezing her legs together.

"Will," Cara pleaded.

"Alright, hang on," Will muttered, pulling over a mile or so down the road from the station. He saw Mulder pull the other car behind his, keeping his eyes on their surroundings. Cara got Emma out of the car, taking her to a treeline on the side of the highway a considerable distance from the cars. She placed Emma behind a tree for privacy and quickly removed her pants and underwear.

"Mommy, I can't pee-pee without a potty!" Emma complained with a wrinkled brow.

"You have to, Emma," Cara insisted, knowing Will was itching to get back on the road after what happened at the station.

"But Mommy-"

"Emma, just go pee-pee, okay?"

"There's no potty!"

"Emma, go!"

Cara froze. A stillness had rushed over the wooded area she had her back to, birds silenced in a sudden flash. She turned quickly, her eyes frantically searching for something to see but found nothing.

"Hurry, Emma!" she begged, hearing the little girl begin to relieve herself. She dare not shout, not knowing if they were truly alone or not. The sound she began to hear confused her though it was still far away; she closed her eyes and listened, focusing on isolating the noise that grew nearer and louder in volume.

Her eyes flashed open, horrified when she realized what it was. "Emma!" she breathed, turning back to her daughter. "Come on!" Cara yanked Emma's clothes back on quickly, her hands shaking as the hum seemed to creep even closer. Terrified, Cara picked Emma up in her arms and began to run back to the car.

The distance she had initially taken the girl didn't seem as far as it did now, the haunting noise following her as if what created it had intelligence. _It does, _she reminded herself, her sneakers pounding through the uneven grass and rocks, the natural divots in the earth threatening to catch her off guard.

Will bolted from the driver's seat, seeing Cara's distress. "Cara!" he called, rushing quickly to meet her halfway.

"Will!" she breathed, grabbing his arm and yanking him forward. "Take her!"

Will snatched Emma from Cara's arms, pausing in horror when he heard what Cara heard. "RUN!" Will shouted, grabbing Cara's arm and dragging her.

Emma clung to her father's neck, her eyes widening as she looked over Will's broad shoulder to what her parents were running from. "DADDY!" she screamed, squeezing herself around Will tighter.

"It's alright!" Will assured through huffs of air as he ran. He was stunned as he felt Cara's grip on his hand drastically sever. He moved a few feet forward through pure momentum as he tried to skid to a stop. "CARA!" he yelled, turning back to see Cara laying on her side in pain.

"GO!" Cara shouted. "GET HER IN THE CAR!"

Will's split-second decision killed him, bolting away from his injured wife as he tossed Emma into the vehicle. "Roll the windows up!" he ordered to Shilah. "Close the vents!" He turned, looking back at his father, who got out of the car with his mother and Cyrus in concern. "GET BACK IN THE CAR!" he screamed. "ROLL UP YOUR WINDOWS, CLOSE YOUR VENTS!"

"William-" Scully pleaded for understanding.

"DO IT!" Will yelled, rushing back to where he left Cara. It was then that Scully's eyes widened like her granddaughter's, the horror filling her and Mulder as they saw the enemy that approached with fury.

"Oh my God," Scully whispered in shock.

"Scully, in the car!" Mulder shouted. "Cyrus, get in!" He quickly urged them back into the vehicle, each of them slamming the doors shut behind themselves as Mulder frantically closed the vents like Will had instructed. The three of them braced themselves, Cyrus feeling sick as he watched his sister writing in pain on the ground.

"I've got to help!" Cyrus shouted, trying to leave as Mulder quickly grabbed him and held him down.

"No!" Mulder argued. "Stay!"

"I can't!"

"Yes, you can!" Mulder kept his grip tight on Cyrus as they watched Will race toward Cara in the field.

Will panted as he bent down to Cara, seeing her tears on her cheeks from her struggle to crawl across the rocky grass despite her broken limb. He quickly slung her into his arms, wincing when he heard her cry out from her leg being jostled. "Hold on to me!" he instructed, his eyes wide as he saw the enemy approaching at lightning speed.

"Go, Will!" Cara breathed, gripping Will's neck tightly, swallowing back the agony of her injury being so roughly handled. She couldn't help but see what Emma had seen over Will's shoulder as she was carried; she shut her eyes, praying they could escape it in time.

Her heart stopped when she felt the invasion of her body, her entire self jerking forward in respond. The impact had rendered her speechless; her chest tightened, lancinating pain in volts overcoming her. Her motor functions slowed, her eyes heavy as she looked at Will. "SHIT!" she heard Will yell as he got her into the car, Shilah taking the driver's seat. "GO!" Will ordered, Shilah speeding off as Will cradled Cara on his lap, Mulder's SUV following quickly behind.

The children screamed as the massive swarm of bees surrounded the car, ramming themselves into the glass, aiming at them with intention. "Daddy!" they pleaded, their faces horrified at the bees that covered the windows like thick cloud.

Shilah turned on his wipers to knock them away from the window, struggling to see the road as he drove. "Faster!" Will shouted. "We've got to outrun them!"

In the car behind them, Mulder followed Shilah's pace, their own vehicle seemingly unaffected. "My God!" Cyrus breathed, seeing how the bees had singled out the car Will, Cara and the children were in. "It's like they know Max and Emma are in there!"

"They do!" Mulder replied, urging the car to go faster as Shilah tried to break out of the swarm.

* * *

In the car at the front, Will was relieved when they were able to free themselves from the cloud of bees that were hungry for his wife and children, Cara still draped in his arms. "Mommy!" Emma cried, tears running down her face. "Mommy!"

"She's okay, Emma," Will lied, looking to Max and begging him to be silent regarding the truth.

_Mommy's dying!_ Max thought with an outward sob.

_No, Max, she's not,_ Will assured. _Mommy is just sick, but Mommy can fight what the bees did._

_Then why isn't she okay?_

… _I don't know._

"Daddy," Max whispered. "Grandpa, Grandma and Uncle Cyrus wants to know if Mommy is okay."

Will held Cara, seeing her swallow hard, knowing her throat was drying quickly. He pushed the hair away from Cara's eyes that fell there, his heart breaking for her as he witnessed her struggle. "Come on, baby," he whispered to her, closing his eyes against the tears that formed. He looked up quickly, seeing Emma's large green eyes meet his. "Emma!" he said with realization. "Can you heal Mommy?"

Emma reached over and touched her mother; Will waited in anticipation. She withdrew her hand after a moment. "Her boo boo on her leg is better," Emma noted. "But Mommy is still sick."

Will shut his eyes. "Max," he whispered. "Please try, Max."

Max laid his hand on his mother. Cara's eyes remained shut, the lids heavy as they concealed her view. Max shook his head. "Mommy doesn't have stones," Max concluded, which Will already knew. Will realized that his son could only heal magnetite-based injuries while his daughter could only heal natural illnesses and injuries. What Cara had become infected with was anything but natural.

Will saw Cara stir. "Cara," Will pleaded, wrapping her tenderly against him, her body resting in his lap. "Cara, you've got to help me. You've got to help me help you. You said ... you could control Purity," Will stammered.

"This … isn't the … same … strain."

Will shut his eyes and bit his lip in utter desperation and agony. "Can't … get … hot …" he heard her whisper, seeing her swallow roughly.

"Put the air on!" Will said to Shilah, who quickly blasted the cool air into the vehicle. "What else?" Will begged, looking at Cara. It was too dangerous to stop the vehicle, and he had no way of speaking to his mother for advice.

"I … don't know."

Will glanced through the back window, seeing Mulder following closely behind. "Shilah! We've got to tell them what's going on."

Shilah nodded. "I'll see if I can get them to come next to us." Shilah slowed the car down, gesturing frantically to Mulder through the rearview mirror. He was grateful when Mulder understood quickly, pulling the vehicle alongside him on the empty highway. "Shima," Shilah mouthed in exaggeration. "Sick."

Scully was the first to register the message, her body shifting in panic with the news. "Pull over," she mouthed back, pointing to the shoulder.

"She wants me to pull over," Shilah reported.

"No, too dangerous," Will objected, feeling like something else was waiting for them in the woods across from them.

"Grandma says she can help!" Max pleaded with Will, his brown eyes filled with tears.

Moistening his lips, Will nodded reluctantly. "Alright, pull over." Shilah slowed the car down on the shoulder, Mulder following behind him, both vehicles coming to a stop. Will remained in his seat, hearing Cyrus, Scully and Mulder approach. He turned quickly to a rap on the window next to him. It was Cyrus; his eyes were wide with pained shock at the sight of his sister.

Mulder opened the door where Emma and Max were, quickly unbuckling the children. "We're taking them," Mulder explained. "Just to be safe."

"Daddy!" Emma cried, sobs shaking her.

"NO!" Max screamed, kicking against Mulder as he lifted him. "I want to stay with Mommy!"

"It's alright, guys," Will assured gently, his heart torn over their sadness of being so quickly removed. "You'll be safe with Grandpa. Daddy and Mommy will be right here." He heard their muffled objections as Scully climbed in next to him and shut the door, followed by Cyrus, who kneeled in the front passenger seat to examine his sister in the back.

"Caraline," Cyrus breathed, stroking his sister's sweat-dampened cheek.

"Mom," Will murmured, watching his mother examine Cara quickly, "she's weak against this strain."

"We have to keep her cool," Scully instructed with a clinical tone; she was frightened and hid it behind a professional mask. "Here." Scully helped to sit Cara up momentarily, removing her tee shirt. Cyrus looked quickly away just before his sister's bra was revealed to him.

"We need to get moving," Shilah urged quietly. "Whoever released the bees won't be too far behind to witness their handiwork."

"He's right," Cyrus agreed. His sharp blue eyes found Will's intense brown ones, trying to avoid Cara's exposed torso. "I'll take care of them," he whispered, seeing Will's distress over the switched seating.

All Will could do was nod, Cyrus slipping back out of the car as he rushed to the back seat with Emma and Max. "Aw, no," Cyrus murmured, taking them both against his sides, his arms wrapping around them as they cried. "It's alright, loves. Your mum is a tough nut to crack. She'll be just fine."

"Are you sure, Uncle Cyrus?" Emma asked between sniffles.

"I know she will be," Cyrus assured, holding the children tightly to them as Mulder pulled out behind Shilah, Scully staying with Will to keep watch over Cara. "Hey Max," Cyrus added a few moments after they started back onto the road, "at least you can talk to your dad, yeah? So you can know how your mum is whenever you want to."

Max nodded, leaning closer to Cyrus, who caught Mulder watching the interaction in the rearview mirror in brief glances. Though he knew his doubts could be read by his nephew, Cyrus couldn't help but to have them. If Cara, the strongest Shield ever created, was suffering under whatever strain of virus the bees carried, then the reality was grimmer than they all thought - no one had an advantage. No one was safe.

It was solemn in the car as the children rested against their uncle, Mulder alone in the front as he drove. "Grandpa?" Max said softly after a long while.

"Yeah, Max?" Mulder replied.

"Daddy says that Grandma needs medicine for Mommy."

Mulder was hesitant to answer. "We … don't …"

Cyrus interrupted him, "I know where we can get some." He winced at the risk his own idea and caught Mulder looking at him briefly in the mirror's reflection.

"Where?" Mulder asked.

Cyrus inhaled deeply, his jaw flexing as he replied. "My little black book," he replied bitterly.


	18. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

Near Yuma, AZ  
2:18 PM MST

Will insisted on keeping Cara against him, cradling her in his arms as she lay sans shirt and only in a bra and jeans against him. Sweat collected on her forehead, her eyes closed as Will continually mopped her brow. Scully didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but she knew her son's core body temperature was far too unnaturally warm to make the air conditioning that blasted through the vents work to cool her. She knew they were burning more fuel by keeping the air on high at the max chill, Shilah muttering about needing to rob another station soon or be forced to have Will pull them to where they were headed.

The original plan to travel to Chinle, a small town within the Navajo Reservation in Arizona that Shilah and the rest of the Hosteen clan now lived, was put on hold after Cara's contraction of the virus that left her crippled with illness. The extent of her condition frightened everyone for the obvious reason of her well-being, but perhaps even moreso for the shocking reality of how ineffective Timothy English's Shield program had suddenly become in light of the strongest Shield now being so weakened.

Through emotionally and comprehensively strained communication with Max, Scully was able to verify her latest assessment of Cara's condition with Mulder. A normal human without Cara's ability was said to have ninety-six hours to be administered the vaccine before the virus would become truly fatal. However, what they had to go off of was based on a strain of Purity that Cara would have normally been able to resist and even control. This one was attacking her rapidly without any regard to her superior genetic status. Mulder agreed, and Scully was now to give the news to Will, who she knew would be unwilling to part with Cara's lifeless body without the grave assessment, let alone with.

"William," she said softly, noting how her son didn't move from his slumped position against the door of the car, his arms around his wife. "From what your father and I can base things off of, we have no more than four days to administer the vaccine."

"What do you mean, 'from what you can base things off of'?" Will asked; they were the first words he spoke to anyone besides hushed whispers to Cara for hours now.

Scully swallowed, trying to stay strong for her mind-reading son. Lies wouldn't work, neither would sugar-coating. Will could find out what he needed to know - he just preferred to let people tell him the truth themselves. "We're assuming this is a different strain of the virus, William," she explained. "The only strain we've ever been able to conduct tests with or build the vaccine around were ones that Cara most likely would have been resistant to." Her voice softened. "They knew what they were doing with this, William. This is no fluke."

"It's a message," Will murmured, his head lifting from the glass as he shifted his position. He knew he had to keep Cara cool, but still felt the need to conceal the swell of her breasts at the top of her bra as much as possible. "A love note," he added bitterly.

Scully mustered her courage, the next slice from the pie of information she served him the most sour. "At this point, we're not even sure if the vaccine will work." She saw his blank stare; she caught the way his hands tightened on his wife's body. "Cyrus still wants to try to get some at Flagstaff."

"How confident is he that he can get it?"

"Fairly. He plans to stop soon to make a few phone calls if we can find somewhere." Scully paused. "He could use your help in the retrieval, William."

Will heard the suggestive tone his mother used, knowing she still worried about his and Cyrus' quarrel that seemed so distant and unimportant as he clutched Cara to his chest. "Whatever it takes," he said with resolve.

* * *

Arizona Western College  
Near Fortuna Foothills, AZ

A half hour later, Shilah pulled over to park next to Mulder outside of a large brick building on the seemingly abandoned campus of Arizona Western College. Will imagined before December that the campus would have been thriving with students either trying to better themselves through higher education or partying on their parents' dollar in the dorms he saw scattered around in the distance. Now, the area seemed as desolate as every other place they encountered, though he was still on edge about being there. Nothing seemed safe anymore, not even the car he sat in.

Cyrus climbed out of the SUV he was riding in quickly, giving a nod to Scully, who left Will to stay with the children. Will watched as Mulder ducked inside the building in front of them labeled as the Community Center, knowing Cyrus thought it would be his best bet to access a phone or internet connection should it still exist. "Shilah," Will noted with regret, his focus shifting to his friend in front of him, "I'm sorry you've driven for so long."

"I do what needs to be done, Young Fox," Shilah replied. With a deep breath, he nodded toward the many cars he saw in the lot nearby. "I've never been much of a gambling man, but I'd say our odds of finding more fuel in that lot are pretty good. I'll go check it out." Before Will could object to him taking on the task alone, Shilah slipped out of the car, retrieving the siphoning equipment from Mulder's SUV before going to try his luck.

The sight of the overcrowded lot coupled with the various blasé buildings and the bead of sweat he watched roll down Cara's cheek before he soaked it up with a rag brought back memories of his time spent with Cara in the academy. The tiny academy dorms that lacked air conditioning tested the patience of many recruits amid the swelter of an east coast summer with record-high humidity, including Tyler, Will's roommate. Tyler was a lanky young man who rarely spoke; instead, he chose to express himself through his physical capabilities during training. Tyler's Achilles's heel, though, was July in New Jersey, the colorful language always abundant so long as there was moisture in the air.

As Will took in his wife's face, he remembered the time that summer after they started together when she had dared to parade around in his dorm room in the most delicious, albeit modest, amethyst bikini he had ever seen. Tyler was running an errand just to blast the air conditioning in his car when she came over, an oversized racerback tunic covering her only to mid thigh. It had climbed to one-hundred and five degrees Fahrenheit that day with one-hundred percent humidity, and most of the recruits were opting to venture out during the period of off-duty to the nearest bar for a cold beverage and a hopefully colder atmosphere. Some chose to stay close to the academy pool until their wrinkled bodies needed bathroom or food breaks. The few, such as Will, sat in the dorms and didn't move aside from blinking and breathing to avoid overheating.

He had let her in, stunned by her lack of clothing though it wasn't anything he hadn't seen before. He supposed it was just because it was Cara's bare body that a sizeable lump in his throat formed. He nearly choked on his own spit when she stripped the tunic off to reveal her swimsuit in all of its glory in the name of keeping cool, standing in front of his oscillating fan and catching the breeze as it passed her back while she munched from his bag of Bugles.

"W-Will?" Cara murmured, stirring in his arms and bringing him back slowly as the memory transitioned into the reality. She was as bare on her upper half as she had been that summer day, only now she was fighting for her life instead of fighting over theories or snack foods.

"Hey," Will smiled, "how are you feeling?"

"Like hell," she replied.

"At least the antivirals Mom gave you seem to be making it a little better."

Cara's eyes fully opened to see her lack of a shirt. "Why …"

"You were hot," Will explained. "Mom wanted to keep you cool."

"So she left me with the human heater?" Cara joked through a strained laugh.

"I might have had something to do with that."

"Where are the kids?"

"With Mom."

"Are they …?"

"Yes," Will assured, stroking her cheek. "They're fine. You were the only one stung. Not that the bees didn't try to get the kids, but luckily cars are faster than bees, no matter how intelligent."

Still slung in Will's arms and too weak to move very much or very far, Cara caught a weak glimpse out of the SUV's tinted window to where they were parked. "Where are we?"

"Arizona Western College." Will sighed. "Cyrus is trying to find a phone or a computer to make contact with some people."

Cara's brow wrinkled. "For what?"

"You, silly."

Though in pain, she was able to put two and two together rather quickly. "No," Cara whispered. "He … can't …"

"It's too late," Will interrupted. "Cara, we've got to try to get you the vaccine."

"It's too dangerous," she objected. "Those people want him dead."

"If he can get a location on one of the contacts, I'll be going with him to retrieve it."

"No!"

"Cara, it's done," Will said firmly. "I'll protect Cyrus. Don't worry. I've got him."

"And what about you?" Cara asked, struggling to sit up more so she could look into his eyes. "Who will protect you?"

"I'll be fine," he insisted.

"Will-"

"Cara," Will said, silencing her as he put his finger over her lips. "Shh. You won't change anyone's mind, so please don't waste your energy." He saw the angry look in her eyes, knowing it resulted from her fears that began to stir at the mention of the vaccine. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you better."

She was mad, of course - mad about being silenced, mad about not being able to protect her husband and her brother, mad about causing such a crippling detour from where they truly needed to be. "Why can't I fight this strain, Will?" she asked softly,

"Probably the same reason why I couldn't stop time to prevent you from getting infected." Will sunk his free hand into her hair, combing his fingers through it gently. "No matter how strong we are, sometimes there's something stronger."

"Will, you don't believe that. You can't believe that."

He shook his head. "Cara, I'm not going to deny what happened out there."

"What happened out there was a message."

"Well, they got through."

"Will-"

"You can't tell me they don't have an upper hand."

"If you believe the enemy is stronger than you, then where is your hope, Will?" Her eyes were growing watery, but she fought it. He shut his eyes, hoping it would shut out her question. "Don't let them get back in your head," she begged. "It's a game, Will. They want you to get distracted so you move the wrong piece on the board."

Will breathed with burden. "Your infection, Cara ..." He paused. "Everything your father did to you was all for naught. The children who died … The pain you went through … Living at the compound … The lies you were told …"

Cara paused, the Smoking Man's face flashing through her mind's eye as she reflected on the few memories that had seeped back into her from her childhood. She saw his watchful gaze through a haze of smoke, the glass she looked up at him through dirty with tiny handprints from children who couldn't bear the agony of being consumed alive by a foreign entity. Purity had hurt her, too, but she was able to fight, to will the substance from overtaking her mind. She assumed she was now doing just that through her pain, her thoughts remaining her own despite the breakdown of her body.

"All for nothing," Will whispered resentfully.

"No," Cara objected with gentle realization. "It was for something." She leaned into his hand that cradled her head. "It was for them."

Before he could ask her to clarify, the door to the SUV flew open. Will draped Cara's shirt over her chest, knowing Shilah was a gentleman but still feeling protective of his wife. "Managed to find enough to fill each tank halfway," Shilah said proudly. He paused, realizing Cara was awake. "Shima, how are you?" He didn't turn his head, knowing she was only partially dressed.

"I feel like hell," Cara admitted with a hard swallow, her throat dry.

"But the antivirals helped a little, at least," Shilah offered.

"Yeah." Her eyes were drooping; she was still in the woods.

"Easy," Will instructed, adjusting his arms around her. "Rest."

"My … shirt …"

Clumsily, Will shrugged the tee shirt over Cara, finding her much more difficult to dress than their preschool-sized children. "Rest," he repeated, helping her find a comfortable nook in his arms. He watched her breathing even, feeling his stomach sink as he saw the paleness of her skin mixed with the growing flush of her cheeks - the fever was ready to rise again and claim its victory.

The sight of her weak and drifting back to listlessness was a definite checkmate if he ever did see one.

* * *

Cyrus paced as he waited behind the counter of the information desk of the community center on the campus, the corded phone restricting the distance he could cover while the incessant ringing drove him wild. "Come on, for God's sake," Cyrus muttered. "Have a damn phone, you bloody-Hello?" He froze, his eyes catching Mulder's as both men waited with baited breath. "Zeke? … Well, your voice is certainly one for sore ears. … Why am I calling. Ahh, well … Hey, I sided with you when it came to that, remember? Look … No, listen, I've got a valid exchange I need to make. … How do you know I don't? … I'm not yanking your chain. … Listen, I need the vaccine, yeah?"

Cyrus' voice lowered, the true desperation leaking through. "I need enough to treat two people. … No-no-no-no, don't hang up!" His tone softened even more. "What do you want, mate? I'm willing to give anything I've got to get it." Cyrus saw how Mulder was trying to object silently to Cyrus' show of weakness and turned his back on him. "Yeah, I've still got it. … Mmm-hmm. … Right then, you'll-" Cyrus sighed deeply, rubbing his eyebrows with his free hand. "Look, I can't- … I need to- … Yeah. … No, I know. … Mmm-hmm. … Mmm-hmm. … Yes. … Fine. … No, you've got my word. … Look, I need this, yeah? I'll do what it takes. … Good. When can you get to Flagstaff? … The usual place?" Cyrus waited, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Excellent. Perfect. … I will. … No, I won't. … You just remember to bring two doses, yeah? … Fine. … Yes. … Mmm-hmm. … I won't."

The line went dead; Cyrus hung up his end, his back still to Mulder as he contemplated what he was going to tell him had happened. He could either go with the truth or a variation of it, the second option seeming more appealing than the first, given what Zeke had demanded of him. "I figured two doses was better than one," he explained. "Given that we don't know if Caraline's particular strain will cooperate and all."

"So he has it, then?" Mulder asked with innate curiosity.

"Yep."

Mulder was unsettled at Cyrus' flat response. "And he'll give it to you, just like that?"

"Of course," Cyrus replied with a forced smile. "He likes me."

"What is-"

"He'll meet me in our usual hole in Flagstaff at nine o'clock." Cyrus quickly left the circular desk area, passing by Mulder, who caught his arm.

"Tell me what he said," Mulder demanded.

"He was just reaming me out, making sure I'd be a good boy and not lie to him … again."

"That's it?"

Cyrus nodded. "Why, were you hoping for something a bit more dramatic?" He glanced down at his arm being gripped by Will's father. "I'm not sure what infatuation you and your son have for playing grab-sies, but I'll remind you I'm not a fan, yeah?" He took his arm away from Mulder, continuing out of the building with disgust, not sure if he was hating himself more for what he was going to do that Zeke had asked of him or for his desperation to obtain Cara's potential cure.

"Cyrus!" Mulder called out to him, seeing Cyrus pause and turn to him. Mulder took a step closer. "Cyrus, what did he want in exchange?"

Cyrus looked at Mulder carefully, his lips pressed together concealing his tongue as it flitted behind his bottom teeth in agitation. "Nothing that you're going to miss," he opted to say.

Mulder shook his head. "I don't believe you."

"Oh good God," Cyrus exclaimed with disgust. "First your son with his distrust. Now you too?"

"You're not exactly being forthcoming," Mulder argued.

"I don't believe it's in my requirements of life to answer to you," Cyrus sneered.

"Cut the crap, Cyrus!" Mulder yelled, taking another step closer. "Tell me what he wants."

"It's a who, not a what."

"Fine, _who_?"

"It's not Cara or the kids, so you can stop worrying about 'em. Nor is it William or Dana. Or Shilah. Or even you, Fox."

"Then …"

Cyrus was silent, focused. He moistened his lips with a deep breath. "Me, mate," he replied. "He wants me. He wants me to play hitman for him. That's the price to keep my sister alive. He wants to own me so I can nick off people for him."

Mulder was stunned; he locked eyes with Cyrus in concern. He couldn't allow Cyrus to sell himself to obtain the vaccine from such a shady source. "You can't -"

"It's done, Fox," Cyrus said flatly. "I've made my choice. Now I've got a job to do."

Before he could object again, Mulder's eyes widened at the barrel of Cyrus' gun elevating into his direct view.


	19. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

"Don't move," Cyrus warned; Mulder was confused to see Cyrus' gaze falling over his shoulder as he was shoved aside, his weapon training on someone behind him. "I've got the appropriate equipment, rest assured."

"Cyrus-" Mulder interrupted, turning to see a figure partially hidden in a darkened office that was half open to them.

"Don't shoot!" a female's voice pleaded. "I'm unarmed!"

"Come out into the light," Cyrus ordered, watching the young woman step from the shadows with hesitance. "Turn around, lift your hands in the air." The young woman complied. "Now," Cyrus said, taking a slow step forward, "very slowly, move your hair from the back of your neck. Don't try anything."

"Wait, what?" the young woman asked, turning a bit before Cyrus frightened her.

"I said don't move!" Cyrus snapped.

"Okay! Shit!" the young woman whispered. She moved her dark hair that was cut into a long wavy bob away from her neck; Mulder's and Cyrus' eyes immediately searched for the telltale sign of super soldier infection but found none - only an intricate black inked tattoo of a gothic-style cross. "Are you happy? I've got a neck."

"Alright," Cyrus said quietly, lowering his weapon. The young woman turned to face Mulder and Cyrus, her eyes locking immediately on Cyrus, who cleared his throat in stunned shock of the woman's beauty. "You've got some gall, I'll give you that," he murmured, feeling troubled by his distraction but doing his best to try and hide it. "How did you know we aren't going to hurt you?"

"I just do," the young woman replied, her cocoa brown eyes seeming to burn through Cyrus.

"What's your name?" Mulder asked.

"Christina," the young woman replied. "Christina Harrison."

"Are you with anyone?"

Christina shook her head, her focus reluctantly shifting to Mulder. "No," she whispered. "They're all gone. I ... I tried to warn them but they didn't listen. I've been hiding here on campus because I don't know what else to do. No one has come around ... You're both the first people I've seen since February." Her eyes fell back on Cyrus, who she knew was staring at her, catching him look away with guilt.

"Were you a student?" Mulder asked.

Christina nodded. "I was studying homeland security. I was suppose to graduate this year."

"Wouldn't have figured that," Cyrus commented, analyzing the lithe, petite brunette with genuine surprise. He marveled at the symmetry of her face, the roundness of her eyes compelling him. She had a genuine innocence about her that drew Cyrus like a moth to a flame, her softness she seemed to exude catching him completely off-guard.

"Why?" Christina asked with challenge. "Did you think because I'm a woman that I automatically was an education major?"

Cyrus smirked at Christina's brash insinuation. "Touché," he replied with a growing smile. "Not, of course, that there's anything wrong with education," he added with a blush, tucking his gun away.

"Where's your family, Christina?" Mulder asked, not missing the obvious signals from Cyrus.

"They died over a year ago," she said solemnly. "They were shot to death."

Cyrus' eyebrow raised. "Very sorry for your loss," he offered.

"They were good people," Christina continued. "They were just doing what's right, just like you both are." She laughed; it confused Mulder and Cyrus entirely. "I ... guess you're the two he sent. Didn't think one would be coming all the way from Australia."

"Sorry ... who sent?" Mulder questioned.

"God," Christina said with a smile.

"God." Cyrus' voice was doubtful. She nodded. "Look, love ... I don't mean to argue with you, but how do you figure God brought us here?"

"He told me two would come," Christina said with a grin. "One with belief ... One without."

"Suppose I'm the one without."

"You tell me."

The air thickened with tension. "You can't stay here," Cyrus concluded, fearing for the young woman's safety. "Not alone, and not without a weapon."

"I ..." Christina wasn't sure what he was implying.

"Cyrus ..." Mulder began with uncertainty.

"Fox, we can't possibly leave her here to die," Cyrus interrupted.

"So you're ... Cyrus?" Christina said, eying him.

"My apologies." Cyrus gave a small nod. "Cyrus English."

"English," Christina murmured with thought that was visible on her face. "And you're ... Fox?"

"Fox Mulder, but call me Mulder," Mulder corrected.

"Mulder?" Christina whispered in surprise.

"Yes?" Mulder asked back, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Cyrus saw the way she paled. "Are you alright?" he asked, stepping forward in concern. When she didn't reply, he became even more worried. "Christina?"

"Are you ..." Her eyes searched out Mulder's. "Are you related to William Mulder?"

Mulder hesitated. "I'm his father."

Christina's eyes widened. "Is he with you?"

"He's not what they say he is, if you've heard about him," Mulder insisted, surprised to see Christina nod in agreement.

Christina felt her heart race. "And you," she said to Cyrus. "Are you related to Caraline English?" She saw Cyrus' head nod. "How?"

"She's my sister," Cyrus murmured.

"Oh my God," Christina breathed; Cyrus saw her visibly begin to shake.

"Christina?" Cyrus asked, daring to reach out and take her gently in his hands, resting them on her upper arms with careful distance. He saw the way she jolted upward, her eyes immediately locked on his at his touch. "Say something," Cyrus pleaded, fearing she would pass out right then and there.

"William killed my parents," Christina said with a quiver.

* * *

6:02 PM EST

There were stacks upon stacks of spent cigarette butts resting in the ashtray in front of him, his steely eyes locked on the various photographs that he had been given of the after effects of the recent releases. The ash he knocked off of the tip of his fresh stick cascaded down the pile of leftover stems, the silver smoke dancing in the air in an intricate twirl upward.

He failed to see the photo he wanted to the most, though, and he became angry at the injustice of it. Time, research, money had been spent and he was resentful to be denied the satisfaction of the results. He wanted to know, he wanted to see it. He needed to see it. He needed to see the utter weakness of his opponent, the checkmate delivered surely crippling his enemy beyond repair. He wanted to imagine the pained torture his enemy had been caused by his work. He wanted to see his target squirm, beg for mercy, crawl on his hands and knees to plead for relief. He wanted ultimate control over everything, his enemy existing to serve him with complete abandon.

But he couldn't see it without first seeing her, the one thought to be so strong and unbreakable shattered at her very core. He couldn't see the terror on her face captured through a photo. He couldn't see the beads of sweat christening her brow, the moisture pooling on her smooth, soft skin with sensuality, an erotic image to him that he secretly coveted in his mind. He was left unsatisfied - brought to the brink of his criminal ecstasy without the chance for release. He had been cut short, and it drove him mad.

He had chased everyone out of the room a few moments before, wanting to stew in his anger alone. The images his mind conjured as he smoked several cigarettes both enraged him and excited him, his dark desires for death and pleasure mixing into a toxic cocktail that his brain sipped on languidly. No matter how much he tried to imagine the results, it wasn't nearly as good as the physical evidence. He still wanted to be able to see it captured in reality. And he knew he wouldn't be satisfied until he did.

* * *

Yuma, AZ

"Wait, what?" Mulder asked Christina, feeling entirely confused.

"He ... he killed them. He shot them." Christina's voice wavered. "I ... I know he is good, but he still killed them. He killed my mother, Tess and my father, Robert. They were innocent people. He shot them and stole their truck."

Mulder's brow raised. "A red pickup?"

"Yes."

Cyrus turned and looked at Mulder, perplexed as he held Christina gently. "Is this true?" he asked. "Did William kill them?"

Mulder shook his head profusely. "No, no he didn't." He met Christina's eyes. "The men who were after him shot them. He told me ... He told me how your mother gave him and his wife a safe haven when Cara was nearly in hypothermic shock. She ... gave them clothes that she collected for charity. They gave William the truck."

The three were silent as Christina visibly processed the information. "The police said he killed them," she said with a shaky breath. She then shook her head. "But I believe you," she murmured to Mulder. "He's telling me to."

"He?" Cyrus asked, gaining Christina's attention back.

"God," she clarified, the electricity and warmth of his touch making her body feel like putty.

"Right," Cyrus mumbled, releasing Christina with reluctance.

"Go," Christina said after a moment's pause. "I'll only slow your group down."

Cyrus' head shook in objection. "We're not leaving you behind," he said firmly.

Christina looked over at Mulder, who was still stunned by the connection. "I don't think he's on board with that idea," she observed.

"He's right," Mulder finally said. "You're not staying behind. You can ride with Shilah."

"No," Cyrus objected quickly, getting Mulder's attention. "I mean ... Dana will be riding with William and Caraline, right? So it's already full there."

Mulder didn't seem to notice the urgency or stammer in Cyrus' tone. "Alright, that's fine." He looked at Christina. "That is, if you want to come," he added softly.

She smiled warmly. "I've been waiting for someone to come for a while now. Gets kinda lonely being the only person on campus, though there is clean food I managed to find. But it's still frightening. Even moreso when you're running around warning people about death that hadn't come yet." She lightly laughed. "I felt like a prophet; people thought I was nuts."

"How did you know about the virus?" Cyrus asked.

Christina's smile pierced through him; Cyrus felt his throat dry, lighting on fire like the rest of him had every time she looked at him. "He told me."

* * *

With motivation to drive to Flagstaff for the vaccine, Mulder led the way out of the campus community center, Cyrus falling in step beside Christina as he toted some supplies she had gathered. They walked in silence, knowing the addition to their numbers surprised the others. Will, especially surprised, released Cara for a brief moment to look into Christina's eyes, her presence striking him deeply with instant recognition. Tess had those same eyes, and they had haunted him in nightmares for ages it seemed now. "My God," he breathed, reading her thoughts easily. "I can't believe ... Chrissie Harrison ..."

Instantly, his mind went back to the day in February when he first met Tess and Robert Harrison, his desperation to keep Cara alive fueling his risk of trusting them though Robert seemed more bent on killing him. It was Tess' belief that struck him so deeply and remained with him long after they left their home.

_"Now you listen," Tess said, her voice rushed with worry. "You take the red truck you'll see near the woods along the fence out back and go on out of here." She pressed a set of keys into Will's hand, wrapping his fingers around them as she closed his fist. "You can get out there through the cellar, up through the basement doors. Ain't nobody out back there, just these two cops that are over at the McKinley's right now. You best be hurryin'."_

_"We can't … take your car!" Will argued softly, trying to give the keys back to Tess._

_"That old girl … she was waiting for them veterans to come claim her for their charity. I'd say this is charity enough if I ever knew it. She's a bit rusty and old but she's faster than your feet."_

_Cara shook her head. "No, we-"_

_"Don't you be disobeying a commandment from the Good Lord, now," Tess warned softly. "He says you got to respect your elders, so you best get respectin' and leave while you can." Tess gave Cara a thermos that was warm to the touch. "Fresh chicken noodle," she said with a smile. "Farm raised the chickens myself."_

_Will caught Robert's eyes as he looked toward the burly man. "There's a pistol and some ammo in yours," Robert said, nodding to the bag that was Will's. "It ain't much but it'll nick somebody should you need it."_

_Will nodded back in appreciation. "Thank you," he said softly. He then turned to Tess, pressing a gentle kiss on her cheek. "I won't forget this," he whispered. "I won't forget all you've done for us."_

_Tess smiled, patting Will's face with her hand. "I know you won't," she replied. "Now, go!"_

"They said you didn't kill them," Christina whispered, holding back her tears as Will refocused on the present, the memories echoing in his mind as Christina spoke. Her eyes fell on Cara. "Is that her? Your wife?" Will nodded. "She's sick?" He nodded again, seeing her inhale deeply. "I've made peace with my parents' deaths," she murmured, looking back at Will. "I know what they did was right. And I know we were meant to cross paths for some reason."

"This is too dangerous," Will objected. He eyed Cyrus in anger. "We can't risk her life like this."

"She's got nowhere else to go!" Cyrus argued defensively.

"It's bad enough there's already so many involved, let alone another person being added to the mix."

"So you suggest we just ignore the fact that she's an innocent woman who deserves to survive?"

"What I'm suggesting is, you didn't think through the consequences for her." Will eyed Cyrus.

"Don't tell me what I have and haven't done, William," Cyrus snapped. "Besides, your father agrees with me anyway."

Will looked to Mulder, his thoughts confirming Cyrus' statement. "Look, I'm just trying to protect her from what we're getting into," he justified defensively.

"And I'm trying to protect her from what we're getting away from," Cyrus replied darkly.

"Alright," Mulder interrupted, slicing through the battle the two men had started. "Enough!" He sighed deeply, gritting his teeth in disgust over the bickering that came so naturally to Will and Cyrus. "She's with us, William," Mulder said firmly, taking the lead back from his son, who looked ready to object. "She's with us," he repeated, seeing Will back down after a moment of exchanged looks. Mulder looked over at Christina. "So, you were a homeland security major, right?" he asked. "Well, I hope you studied because you're in a very unsecured homeland."

* * *

En route to Flagstaff, AZ

With Mulder in the front seat driving behind Will, who relinquished the feverish Cara to Scully in the backseat as Shilah slept in the front passenger seat, Cyrus took the front passenger seat. Christina was left wedged between Max and Emma, who were very curious about her as they munched on the cheddar fish-shaped crackers she had taken from the many college vending machines she had raided early on in her isolation.

"How old are you?" Emma asked, staring at Christina's natural beauty with awe.

"Twenty-two," Christina replied with a gentle smile. "How old are you?"

"Nine months."

Christina's brow wrinkled. "Uh, what?"

"We're going to be one soon."

"No, we're like four, dummy!" Max corrected.

"Hey," Mulder interrupted. "No name calling."

"Sorry," Max mumbled.

"They're ... essentially four, we think," Mulder tried to explain, Emma interrupting him.

"You have a picture on your neck," Emma said through crunches.

"Yes," Christina confirmed. "It's called a tattoo."

"I want a tattoo on my neck too!" Emma ogled.

"Well, um ..."

"You have short hair like Grandma," Emma continued to Christina. "But yours is dark like Max's. It's pretty."

"Thank you."

"Cyrus thinks it's pretty too," Max added, unaware of the impact his statement would make.

Cyrus cleared his throat. "Um, I ..."

"It's okay," Christina assured, catching Cyrus' embarrassment as he sunk into his seat. "Thank you," she smiled.

"I can read minds!" Max blurted out, feeling jealous due to his childish crush on Christina he immediately was consumed by.

"Seriously?" Christina asked, looking to the adults in the front of the car for verification.

"Yep," Mulder replied. "Try him."

"Alright ..." With hesitance, Christina weakly focused on a song. "What am I thinking?"

"You're thinking about your boyfriend," Max mumbled with a growl, folding his arms over his chest.

Christina's mouth hung open. The thought had crossed her mind so quickly that she hadn't even realized she had it until Max pointed it out. "Wow," she whispered. "That's kind of frightening, kid."

"Where is he?" Emma asked, distracted by her doll in her lap.

"I don't know," Christina replied, looking down at her folded hands on her lap.

Seeing her discomfort, Cyrus intervened. "How about you lot tell Christina the story Shilah told you? You know, the one with the turtle and the bear?" He glanced at Christina. "I'm sure she'd love to hear it." He held her gaze, regretting how fast he was falling for her, hating himself for his instant attraction to her, as if she had be designed for him alone.

"Ooh!" Emma squealed. "That's a good story! Okay ... Once, there was a big black bear and-"

"No!" Max interrupted. "It was a BROWN bear."

"Oh," Emma hurriedly said. "Yeah. Brown bear. Once, there was a big brown bear who was best friends with a turtle ..."

Christina kept her eyes on Cyrus, his magnetism troubling and alluring to her. She smiled gratefully at him for the distraction, but she wasn't sure if she meant the story or Cyrus himself.

* * *

Flagstaff, AZ  
8:39 PM MST

It was nearly fully dark by the time Will parked the car next to Mulder, sighing with regret at he glanced through the mirror into the back seat. Cara was still out of it, only waking once in the last four hours or more to sip some water before falling back to sleep. His mother had reminded him several times that it was better that she was sleeping rather than being knocked unconscious from the fever. Whatever strain it was, her body was fighting it tooth and nail. He still couldn't help the sickening feeling in his stomach when he saw her so lifeless. The Smoking Man had sent him a clear message - those he loved would pay the price of the war he waged.

He exited, opening the door to where Cara was laying and stroked her sweat-dampened hair while he stood over her from outside. "No matter what," he reminded Scully with swallowed fear, "you keep the kids safe, okay?"

Scully nodded; it was senseless to argue with Will, since she had already tried and failed to convince him Cyrus' plan wasn't a good one. Getting the vaccine, though, was the first thing Will ever agreed with Cyrus on, though. She watched as Will tenderly kissed Cara, her eyes remaining closed as his lips moved over her face with care. "I love you," she heard him whisper into Cara's ear, trying not to eavesdrop on her son but feeling unable to restrain herself from taking in the heartbreaking scene, almost like it was a car accident that she remembered so many people delaying D.C. traffic to rubberneck by.

Will found himself unable to move, his fingers diving into the blonde ocean of her mane he loved to caress so much. The Censure knew exactly what it was doing. They were driving him back to the darkness through the suffering of his only source of light. He knew he had to remain strong for her, but seeing her so weak only made it that much more difficult to be stoic in the face of her pain. With a final lingering kiss directly on her lips that didn't move despite it, Will rose, kissing Scully's cheek and giving a nod to Shilah before slipping away toward where Cyrus was waiting.

"You ready?" Cyrus asked quietly as they walked a considerable distance away from the cars that were parked out of view.

"I've got your back," Will said with a small nod. He took his position in the shadows as Cyrus made his way to the meeting area.

For several minutes, Will watched Cyrus pace, dying to crawl inside of his mind to take a glimpse at his thoughts. He became distracted as memories of Tess and Robert flooded through him, Robert's resistance tempered by Tess' unusual trust, which Christina seemed to inherit. Admittedly, he hadn't expected Christina to look the way she did, surprised by the presence of the sizeable cross permanently placed on the back of her neck along with the incredibly tiny nose stud he happened to notice when it caught the light of the sun earlier. Her perfectly unperfect bedhead hair, tank top, torn denim pants and worn canvas sneakers had made her seem more of a rocker than a God-fearing believer from the conservative southern mother she had. Still, it was her eyes, the innocence and sincerity they carried, that made him know her God had as much residence inside of Christina as he had her mother.

Nine o'clock seemed to take longer to arrive than the law of time and space permitted it to, and Will became agitated, worrying that Cyrus' contact Zeke wouldn't show. Or worse, he secretly feared, they were being set up like he and Cyrus were setting Zeke up. Still, he couldn't hear any thoughts nor did he sense any negative presences of replacements in the area. All was quiet - but the quiet had always frightened Will more than any noise could. Quiet was unknown, unpredictable. Noise he could shift and strain through, taking what he needed from where it came from. Quiet was unapproachable; quiet was non-existant.

Finally, the headlights to a vehicle pulled up, Will referencing that Zeke was ten minutes late according to his watch that he struggled to see in the dark. He watched carefully as Zeke exited the car alone, Will gripping his gun in preparation as he remained out of sight. He focused on listening to the conversation that was begun. "You're late," he heard Cyrus note with privileged irritation that Will knew he didn't quite have. _Don't screw this up,_ Will warned him silently.

"Who needs the vaccine?" Will heard Zeke say; he hadn't been able to get a good look at the man, but knew he was built and noticed the telltale sign of at least one weapon hidden away under his shirt. "I trust we're alone?"

"A friend needs it and of course we're alone," Cyrus chose to answer. "I'll be needing it now to pass off to him, yeah?" He reached out his hand.

"Uh-uh," Zeke objected with a half grin. "I need collateral first."

"Bloody hell," Cyrus growled. "I'm what you want, right? What kind of collateral do you possibly need?"

"Proof you can do the job," Zeke replied, making Cyrus instantly nervous as he faced him in the empty alleyway.

_Damnit_, Will thought while in hiding. He tried to see through the crack he was viewing the scene through if he had a shot to take.

"You don't need proof," Cyrus argued, the beat he missed barely detectable. "You've seen my work before. You know I'm capable."

"Humor me," Zeke said, turning back toward the car.

Will saw his opportunity open, readying his weapon to injure Zeke. "Hey wait," Cyrus shouted as he crossed into Will's line of fire, making Will wince in disappointment. "Show me the vials, yeah? I'm not proving a bloody thing until I've got the vials in my hand."

"Then I guess you're not getting them," Zeke concluded, making Will angry as he casually walked away. _Shit, I should've taken the shot._

"Fine," Cyrus said firmly, Zeke pausing at his tone. Zeke turned and faced Cyrus with a wide smile, fishing out the two vials of vaccine and waving them at Cyrus.

"Good," Zeke replied, tucking the vials back in his pocket.

"How do I know they're the vaccine?" Cyrus challenged.

"Well, I guess you're going to have to trust me, now aren't you?" Zeke challenged back.

"Bloody hell ..." Cyrus growled under his breath.

"Your choice, Cyrus."

Shutting his eyes in regret, Cyrus nodded toward the car. "Just let me get the job done, alright?" Cyrus snapped. "I don't have time to piss around."

"Of course." Zeke threw open the door to the back of the sedan he drove in; Wil struggled to see who was waiting there, Cyrus blocking his view. _Damnit, Cyrus! Move!_

As Cyrus stepped closer, his eyes widened. "No," he murmured, shaking his head at Zeke. "He's a kid! What could he have possibly done to you?"

"Actually, he stole from me. He and the other redskin kid who managed to escape raided my supplies."

"Look, I-"

"Listen, Cyrus," Zeke interrupted. "Either you do the job or you don't get your medicine for your ... friend. Your choice."

Cyrus inhaled deeply, his heart racing and his palms coating with sweat. He assumed if Zeke wasn't telling the truth, Will would've made himself known by now to help him escape the trap. The vaccine was legitimate, and the double dose might be just enough to save his sister's life. Only problem was, he would have to take a life to get it. "Fine," he decided, shutting his eyes briefly. "Give me your weapon."

"You've got one. Use that."

"I'm not wasting my bullets on a kill that isn't mine!" Cyrus argued. "Now give me your weapon or we haven't got a deal."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Zeke asked. "I'm not unarming myself, Cyrus."

"For God's sake," Cyrus yelled, whipping out his gun, the weight of the weapon heavy in his hands. He pressed his lips together, feeling his stomach churn as he looked at the bound prisoner in the backseat of the car. "You really want me to finish him in your car, mate?" Cyrus warned. "It'll get quite messy."

"I don't care about the mess," Zeke replied cooly, his smile sickening Cyrus.

Cyrus' blue eyes intensely shifted from Zeke to the person in the car, his jaw flexing in anger at the circumstances.

Will was pissed when Zeke put himself on an angle that left Cyrus vulnerable. _Shit!_

With a deep breath, Cyrus raised his gun at the person who Zeke wanted dead, hating himself with every fiber of his being as he cocked it. He stared momentarily at the person he was about to kill, pleading for the God that Christina seemed to rely on with such assurance would somehow intervene.

River Hosteen stared back at Cyrus in quivering fear.


	20. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Will only needed inches; he kept pleading with Cyrus to move just a fraction to the right so he could clip Zeke, injuring him enough to distract him while Cyrus gained the advantage. The cocking of Cyrus' gun scared him. He didn't feel he knew Cyrus well enough to know what he would do in such a circumstance. Will knew Cyrus cared for his sister with every ounce of his being, and it was this blood connection that he now feared on behalf of whoever was in that back seat that he couldn't see.

He didn't know whether to chalk it up to fate, answered prayers or coincidence, but a mangy cat managed to capture Zeke's attention for no more than a half a blink of an eye, his body shifting with barely enough room to let Will aim. Will took the shot, his target struck which gave Cyrus the opportunity to gain the upper hand while he emerged from cover to back him up. Once Will was able to disarm him as he approached, Zeke was forced up against the dumpster across from them with his power, Will pinning him tightly as Cyrus retrieved the vaccine. "You son of a bitch!" Zeke yelled with rage, trying to free himself from Will's secure block. "I'll kill you, you rat bastard!"

"Go," Will instructed quietly to Cyrus. "Get the vaccine to Mom. It's legit."

"What about you?" Cyrus asked, not willing to leave Will behind alone.

"Get out of here!" Will yelled, his nostrils flaring as he kept Zeke at bay though he fought him.

"The kid ... there's a kid ..."

Will nodded. "I know," he murmured. "Go! Tell them to ready the cars."

With visible hesitation, Cyrus bolted, Zeke's angry words following him. "You're dead, Cyrus English!" Zeke warned coldly. "I'll find you and you'll be sorry you were ever born!"

"Really?" Will asked, knowing he sounded a bit cocky as he kept Zeke in place with his mind.

"I'm not worried about you, William Mulder," Zeke said, spitting in his direction. "You'll get yours soon."

"Kid!" Will called toward the car. "Hey, kid! Can you move? Or talk?" Will heard a muffled response; he slowly walked toward the car, keeping his eyes on Zeke though he knew Zeke wouldn't be strong enough to break his force. He just had to remain focused. "Kid, listen," Will said, still not looking at River, who instantly started thrashing around to try to get to Will as soon as he saw him, "I need you to try to scoot out, alright?" Will kept his eyes on Zeke, knowing he couldn't break focus for even a second. "Just try and-"

It was a rookie mistake and he knew it, but he felt River's thoughts the instant he neared the car and his mind was shattered in worry for the boy. His focus was severed, and Zeke fell to his knees with Will's accidental release of his power. A split second changed the course of the evening, Will knowing the danger River was in as he snatched his body quickly into his arms and shielded River from the magnetite bullets that pelted him. Will groaned in agony, weakening with every moment that passed as he tried to return fire, his aim slowed from the excruciating pain of the magnetite in his body. Will ran, covering River protectively with his bleeding self as he prayed to reach the waiting car in time. He knew his shaky defensive firing must have done something to Zeke, hearing Zeke's groans of pain drifting further away, his shot buying critical time to get River to safety.

The sight of the waiting vehicles was a welcomed one, Will haphazardly tossing River into the back seat with Scully as he dove in the front. "GO!" he shouted, knowing Shilah was both stunned by Will's injuries but moreso by the sight of his son wrapped tightly in duct tape around his slender wrists and ankles, a large silver rectangle covering his small mouth.

"RIVER!" Shilah shouted, his foot slamming on the gas as the two vehicles sped off. Shilah's eyes were large with fright as he saw Scully free his son, her own fear on her face over her son bleeding in the front seat.

"We've got to pull over and let the kids-" she started, Will's hoarse voice interrupting her.

"No!" Will yelled. "We've got to get distance between us."

"William-"

"Drive, Shilah!" Will barked, squeezing his eyes shut against his pain.

* * *

Inside the car behind them, Max's eyes widened with shock. "Daddy's hurt!" he exclaimed, waking Emma up. "Emma, Daddy's hurt again!"

Christina was confused. "Again?"

Max nodded. "He got shot yesterday."

"Oh my God!"

"No, he was fine. Now we've got to heal him again."

Christina's dark brows furrowed, her eyes falling on Cyrus and Mulder, who were surprised to hear Max's update. "There's ... a bit that needs explaining, I suppose," Cyrus replied softly. "When we camp for the night," he assured, glancing back at Christina as his mind was wrapped around his sister being administered the vaccine in the car in front of them.

"Daddy saved the boy," Max informed.

"He did?" Cyrus asked, feeling relieved. He saw Max nod.

"What boy?" Mulder asked.

"River," Max replied.

"River?!"

"Yeah. But he's safe."

"Who's River?" Cyrus asked.

Mulder was stunned. "Shilah's son," he explained, Cyrus sharing his shock with his own guilt eating at him at the revelation.

* * *

In the front car, Shilah's knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel with every ounce of his strength. He took quick glances into the back seat as Scully undid the tape that bound River as she sat between him and the still lifeless Cara despite the vaccine administration. "River!" he breathed. "What are you doing out here?"

River rubbed his wrists, cuddling against Scully as she held him and stroked his hair. "Uncle Eric got hurt," he whispered. "Jimmy and I were trying to find some stuff to help him. We got lost and then the man started chasing us. Then he took us because he was mad. I helped Jimmy get away but I couldn't. Grandpa John, Mommy and Aunt Rebecca are with Uncle Eric. And the babies." River's large brown eyes looked downward. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

"I'm just glad you're okay," Shilah said with a deep breath. He glanced over at Will. "We've got to pull over and let the kids take care of you." He could feel the shift in Will's body temperature, the high heat he usually emitted not present beside him.

"Can't risk it," Will muttered, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Not your choice," Shilah said firmly, flicking on his blinker and pulling on the shoulder of the highway. The night was dark and still as he shut off the engine of he car, the blackness surrounding them as the interior lights dimmed.

Max quickly climbed out of the car followed by Emma, Mulder and Cyrus. When he saw Christina remain, Cyrus paused. "Come on," Cyrus urged gently, holding out his hand. She took it with hesitance, the shock pulsing through her skin. "A lot will be explained right now." He led her over to where he saw the children clamoring over their father.

Christina's eyes widened in horror at the blood and bullet holes she saw riddled throughout Will's body. "Oh my God!" she whispered. "How is he even still alive?"

"He can't be killed with ordinary bullets," Cyrus explained, seeing how Christina's dark brow arched in confusion. "Zeke was prepared with magnetite ones though, it seems."

"Magnetite?"

Cyrus nodded. "Just think of William as Superman and magnetite as kryptonite."

Cyrus noticed the fullness of Christina's lips as they parted while she watched the children tenderly heal their father, Will visibly looking healthier with every touch they administered. Though he was impressed with the talent the children displayed, it took every ounce of Cyrus' focus to keep his mind off of the young woman next to him. It was the first time in his life he actually felt he was under a mysterious control of attraction rather than the one that was responsible for it. He knew she wasn't a Shield, but she might as well have been one with the power she had over him.

She was a few years younger than him, though his heart didn't seem to take any issue with the difference between them. The evening wind gently brushed her textured hair across her neck and he caught a glimpse of the tattoo that hid there. The moon glinted every so slightly off of the small diamond against her nose, highlighting the clarity of her eyes. His stomach knotted, every detail he took in of her too much. He shut his eyes and turned away from her, grateful she didn't seem to notice his battle he felt he was losing. She was far to intrigued with the miracle-working children in front of her to notice how desperately lovesick he was over her.

Once Will was healed, he embraced his children lovingly but urged the caravan to keep going. He felt the danger so clearly, and all he wanted to do was get to a place of safety. They weren't far now, only three more hours of driving, maybe even less if they drove fast. Will hopped behind the driver's seat, Cyrus taking over for Mulder in the other vehicle, and the two cars set back out into the night.

* * *

Chinle, AZ  
11:58 PM MST

Everyone besides Will, Shilah and Cyrus had fallen asleep by the time they arrived at the settlement under Shilah's direction. The cars parked, Will climbed out and stretched his back, the muscles tight from stress across it. His eyes fell on Cara, who looked to be stirring. He quickly opened the back passenger door, lifting her into his arms with his inhuman strength as if she weighed nothing.

Despite the lack of shower and the newly acquired blood and sweat on his person, Cara took comfort in the familiar scent of Will as she woke. "Will," she murmured, his heat enveloping her. She welcomed it, and he was grateful her temperature had stabilized with the treatments he and Cyrus had fought to get.

"Hi, beautiful," he whispered, kissing her as he heard the others slowly exit. He glanced up to see Mulder holding Max and Cyrus carrying Emma, Scully coming to his side to examine Cara, who was confused as she tried to focus on the young woman she saw next to Cyrus.

"You look a lot better," Scully said with a smile. She glanced over at the cabin Shilah had gone to with River, a porch light coming on to aid them in their journey. "Come on," she said to Will. "Let's get her inside."

The group climbed the stairs to the small cabin with a combination of uncertainty and relief, not sure how they would all fit where there were already so many, but grateful to be in the presence of allies and family once again.

The children immediately bonded with River hours ago when they met after healing Will, River's kind brown eyes evidently stored somewhere in their memory banks. Max's talent for reading minds didn't hurt either; his ability gave Emma the security she needed. The three were quickly ushered into River's bedroom to sleep with him in his bed by River's mother Sarah after a tearful reunion and Emma's light touch on Eric that healed him completely of the gunshot wound he had taken from looters a day before.

Shilah led Will to a guest bedroom where Will laid Cara down on the twin-sized bed, getting her comfortable and tucking her into the blankets. She was still very weak, but he was grateful she seemed more aware of their situation and her surroundings than she had been during the peak of her fever. He knelt beside her when the door clicked shut behind Shilah, Scully, Mulder and Cyrus, combing her hair away from her eyes as he kissed her cheek. "Rest," he said gently, seeing the way her eyes fought the sleep she needed and wanted.

"You need rest," Cara replied with equal concern.

"I'll rest, but I'm more worried about you resting."

"I've been resting," Cara argued, which made Will grin.

"Thank God," he breathed, kissing her repeatedly. "My stubborn Cara is back."

She saw the worry in his eyes, the darkness of the bags under them that were the evidence of his compounded stress. "You rest too," she urged.

He nodded. "I'll be right down here," he said as he gestured to the floor.

"No, lay with me."

"Cara, we both won't fit."

"Please. Please lay with me."

If she had asked for the moon, he knew he would've died trying to bring it down to earth for her. He settled into the space next to the wall, pressing his back against it to allow her the most room as he wrapped his arms around her, breathing her scent in deeply. "I love you," his breath caressed as he kissed her neck.

"I love you," she whispered back as she let the sleep claim her once more.

* * *

She felt awkward as she lay nearby Cyrus in the living room, but Christina didn't move from the cocoon she wrapped herself in on the floor. The sofa across the room was occupied by Scully and the floor next to it by Mulder, both of who were fast asleep nearly as soon as their heads rested on the pillows. There was an eerie silence and darkness despite the solitary glow of the hallway nightlight that washed into the living room, the range of illumination just missing her but highlighting Cyrus' still form across from her.

Life had been a pure nightmare for longer than she cared to admit, truly since the death of her parents last February. She had managed to somehow cope, schoolwork, friends and her on-again off-again boyfriend distracting her from the ever-present reality of what she never truly dealt with. She had said to people that she came to terms with her parents' death and before tonight, she truly did feel that way. Yet, with coming face to face with the man she thought responsible for their passing for well over a year, every emotion regarding the loss of them was violently churned up once again, making sleep impossible.

After a few months of mourning, she found herself in the compromising position as the bearer of bad news regarding that December, to which she quickly became an outcast in the small university society. Christina fought to stay true to the faith that defined her, knowing her mother would tell her that only God's opinion of her was important, so she did. She warned as many as she could, preparing for an inevitable end, as she saw it then, as best as she could while dealing with ridicule from her peers.

The twenty-second came, and Christina was sure that she had gone off the deep end when she woke to find nothing different than the day before. However, under supreme direction, she avoided the campus eatery and stuck with her sourced food she squirreled away over the months leading to that day. The destruction had been rather slow and painful to watch unfold, the illness manifesting itself in a sluggish wave across the campus. It seemed as though no one had listened, though a few were fortunate to have missed the initial exposure in the fresh produce brought onto campus through delivery trucks, Christina chalking up their good fortune to the Ramen Noodles they consumed in place of real meals in the dining commons. It was this singular group of people that Christina tried to witness to, tried to help see what was happening, but failed to convince them as they sought help from others, bowls of chicken soup becoming toxic poison to their bodies.

Her boyfriend, Harry, had listened to her initial warnings and survived for a short period of time, yet he never returned from a trip off of campus to try to find help and Christina was left to assume the worst. She grieved the loss, finding it was soon that only she remained, living off of snack foods and sodas on meager rations to avoid running out of supply. She tried, again, to contact the police or anyone who would listen, sending emails to people she knew were probably dead and leaving voicemails that would never be checked.

Weeks went by, then a month. Her first excursion off campus had led to a mugging and near rape, and with terror she fled back to campus. She had no car and no way of knowing where was safe to even go, so she remained at the school, the familiarity of it comforting her. She smashed through buildings to find places to shower, clothes to wear and more food to consume, isolation playing a number on her mind. Christina felt guilty, spending time reading, playing the piano and eventually gaining access to a CD player and some music as she wondered during the passage of time if there was an outside world left around her but too frightened to venture off campus to find out. No one had come that was willing to help her, so she feared that no one good was left in the world.

It was a strange dream that she had when Christina realized two men would come to campus at some point. The thought initially scared her, not having more than some dull kitchen knives, baseball bats and a letter opener to defend herself with. Her faith - her God - assured her though that the weapons wouldn't be necessary. More weeks went by, Christina keeping track of the passed time through the calendars she found on campus. It was today, months later, that she heard their voices, the depth of Cyrus' and Mulder's tones piercing her ears with both comfort and terror. Were they the two? She had no way of knowing. On pure, simple faith, she followed them secretly as they walked the campus, seeing they came with others but unable to see who. There were people left, she had thought with hope. There were people who knew the truth.

Cyrus' eyes had captivated her the instant she saw them, he drawing her with a magnetism she couldn't explain. She was even more confused by the natural connection she felt with him when she realized that he was, in fact, the one without faith that had been said that would come. He was strikingly handsome, something she hadn't cared to worry about before but couldn't help but notice immediately. If her friends had still been alive, they most certainly would've gushed over his thick Australian accent that made whatever he said sound more interesting than it actually was. Most likely they would've been taken by his good looks and broad, toned body, too.

Despite the overwhelming warmth of the home and the people inside of it, Christina still felt rawly alone, even more vulnerable than she had been on her own with only makeshift weapons instead of Superman himself at the helm of the group. She shivered, the printed blanket not thick enough to keep out the chill of fear that swept across her as she pondered her many unanswered questions alone in silence.

She must have audibly reacted somehow, though she was convinced she had been sneaky about her crying and able to successfully mask her tears. "Christina?" she heard Cyrus whisper gently, hearing the gentle rustle of him propping himself up to look over at her. "You alright?" His voice alone was comfort, but she hated herself for seeing it that way.

_Ridiculous_, she thought. _Don't let him in so easily._ "Fine," she murmured, keeping her back to him. She waited for a response, not hearing anything for a while.

"You sure?" came his hesitant reply; she imagined he hadn't moved from his observing position. She pegged him for the heroic type and kept finding she wasn't too far off the mark. There was an obvious streak of darkness that ran through Cyrus with unprecedented strength, though - darkness that was the same shade as the streak she had recently acquired.

She didn't respond. She couldn't lie - rather, she didn't want to. She didn't want to have to be strong for yet another night, afraid of everything around her. She didn't want to feel alone, not knowing if anyone existed. She didn't want to not talk to someone, to not feel someone else's touch, to not hear someone say her name in a voice that wasn't hers or wasn't imaginary. She didn't want to live like she had for so long anymore. Did he sense that? Is that why he asked? Or was he merely being polite, a gentleman by nature who meant nothing more than simple, practical concern with his question. She doubted she would ever know.

Only, Christina came to know very quickly her answer, stunned as she felt the spark of his touch on her shoulder. Her mouth opened; she couldn't speak. She wasn't afraid for her safety, but rather for the ache she felt inside from his hesitant caress. "You're crying," she heard him note behind her. She felt the brush of a pure white tissue, the hand on her shoulder bearing a gift to help.

"Thanks," she murmured, disappointed with the answer she received. The tender touch was the calling card of a true Prince Charming, except she wasn't Snow White. She took the tissue, putting it to use as she remained facing away from him.

"You've been through hell," he whispered. "At least, I can imagine you have."

"Hell is worse than what I've been through."

"Right. Your faith." She heard him exhale gently; she couldn't discern if it was in remembrance or for courage. "Well, it was probably pretty damn close." She didn't answer. How could she? "I hope you can at least begin to feel some rest now," he added.

His words tore at her resolve and she crumbled, the tears flowing freely without concern. She couldn't pinpoint when it happened but it was a long while later when Christina ceased crying that she felt herself being embraced tenderly by Cyrus. Somehow, she had turned around and pressed her face into his chest, though she saw his efforts to keep a respectable distance between them. He was so warm, his arms so comforting that she had lost herself in the contact - contact she had gone without for nearly six months. "I'm sorry," she quickly apologized, pulling away; he let her, not resisting.

"Don't apologize," Cyrus replied, continuing to lay on his side beside her.

"I just ..." Christina exhaled, her breath escaping with a quiver. "I haven't seen people in so long and I ..." She paused, feeling the tears rising to the surface again.

"It's alright, love," Cyrus whispered, his heart breaking for her. "I understand."

"You're very kind to be concerned," Christina said as she looked him in the eye. "But really, I'm fine."

Cyrus tilted his chin up as he examined Christina's face carefully. "You think I'm over here because I feel guilty," he stated.

"I just ... don't want you to feel obligated to-"

"I don't," Cyrus interrupted, his index finger finding her lips, silencing her immediately in surprise. Realizing the intimacy of his action, he withdrew his hand quickly, stunned when he felt it caught by hers. Her touch weakened him; he closed his eyes, feeling horrible for his choice to comfort her when she was so vulnerable. Between her emotional state and his God-forsaken chemistry, he had screwed things up entirely for her affection to be genuine like he knew his was. "Christina-"

"Please don't leave me," she begged; his chest constricted at the rawness.

"You don't understand," he replied, wishing he could make her realize her mistake without making her feel worse than she already did. She let go of his hand slowly, seeing the way he avoided her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, embarrassed. "You're ... You're not ... You don't ... I'm sorry."

"No," Cyrus corrected impulsively, snatching her hand back. "I am. I do. It's just ... You're ... You've been through so much."

Cyrus expected Christina to yell at him, slap him or maybe even tear him apart for being so brazen with his actions. The last thing he expected was for her to be empathetic, her eyes searching his carefully. "You're different, too," she noted softly, relishing the warmth of his hand on hers. He froze at her accusation. "Like the children. Like William. But ... different. How?"

He shut his eyes. It was late and the story was truly an unbelievable tale, one he wasn't sure if she was prepared to hear. "Not unlike William," he began, keeping his hand over hers, "I'm a lab rat. An experiment." He saw how her dark brow arched. "My father, the father I share with Caraline ... he knew this day was coming when the world would be overtaken by an alien lifeforce." He paused, gauging her reaction. She was still whole-heartedly listening. "Long story short, he set out to create a race of people capable of hiding from the aliens. People who would rise in numbers to overthrow the Colonists."

Her eyes widened. "So you're like William?"

"No," Cyrus replied. "I'm not at all like William. I can die as easily as you can. But unlike William, everything I am genetically allows me to remain hidden from the Colonists. If I didn't want to, I'd never have to engage them in battle because I could live the rest of my days hiding and most likely survive."

"Then ... that means they can find everyone else?"

"Everyone who either isn't a Shield, like me and Caraline, or who isn't with one."

"So like me?"

Cyrus smiled softly. "No, you're safe. You've got Caraline to thank for that. She's the strongest of the Shields ever created. She's keeping us all safe."

"Created?" Christina asked.

He nodded. "It's just what it sounds like. Complete genetic rerouting when I was a teenager. Lots of tests. The new genes were suppose to make me immune to the virus Caraline is infected with but I'm not really. It all hurt like hell but I'm mostly normal. Guess it comes in handy to be able to hide, though I haven't been doing much of that my whole life anyway."

She moistened her lips, feeling the warmth and weight of his hand. "Why?" she asked quietly after a long pause. "Why would your father do that to you both?"

She was the first person he had ever encountered that saw the negative aspects of what Timothy English had done. "I've been asking the same question for years now," he admitted with genuine surprise.

"I don't ..." She stopped. "No, I _know_ I couldn't do that to my children." She exhaled sharply through her nose at the thought. "Not that I'll ever have a chance to do the whole 'Happily Ever After' thing anyway."

He wanted to immediately reply with "Why not?", vowing to give her as much happiness as he could. _God, you're absolutely fucking pathetic,_ he scolded himself. _You've known her for a total of less than twelve hours. Get a grip on yourself, you fool._ "So why are you only 'mostly' normal?" he heard her ask, dreading the question.

_Shit_. "I've got a bit of a chemical imbalance," he joked softly, seeing her smile.

"Don't we all?" she teased back. He thought he'd died when he examined her playful grin.

"I suppose that's true." It seemed to be enough for her, and for that he was grateful.

"Thank you," she whispered, her fingers weaving into his. She couldn't help but see how perfectly their hands fit together.

"My pleasure," he replied, swallowing softly as he felt his throat dry up once again.

Christina took a deep breath. "So ... aliens, huh?" Cyrus nodded. "Well ... I guess it could be worse."

"How do you figure?" he asked with interest.

"We could be invaded by a massive amount of Justin Bieber clones or something."

Cyrus laughed; it was the first genuine laugh he had experienced in a long time. Christina laughed with him, each enjoying the moment to lighten things up. As he looked down at her, Cyrus knew he had to leave or otherwise do something he might be sorry for for her sake. It was too hard to be so close to a person he knew was his soulmate despite having not believed in the possibility previously. "You should get some rest," he encouraged gently, loosening his grip on her hand with regret. She watched his face, seeing the struggle that was so visible as he tried to remain a gentleman.

"There's nothing wrong with staying," she whispered, unwilling to let his hand go.

In that moment, he hated his father with more passion than ever before - for damning him with something that could never be changed and would forever ruin him and any integrity he had. "I can't," he breathed, shutting his eyes with a sigh.

"You're right," Christina stammered, letting his hand go. "Sorry. I, uh ... We both need sleep and everything."

With sadness, Cyrus nodded and lifted himself from her makeshift bed on the floor, returning to his own blankets that had grown cold, miserable that the woman he knew he was meant to be with was only attracted to him because of her vulnerability. He couldn't take advantage of that, no matter how much he wanted to innocently hold her or even kiss her cheek goodnight. If she knew the truth about what she was feeling, he knew she would hate him for following through on any of his desires, no matter how well-meaning they were.

His father had once told him the formula for his project, a common Biblical phrase that now rang through his mind with anger: Faith, hope and love. The greatest of these is love.

He was convinced his father wasn't capable of feeling love.


	21. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

June 27, 2013  
2:48 AM MST

"Mulder."

"Mmm?"

"Sorry, you were sleeping."

"I'm alright, Scully. What's wrong?"

Scully propped herself up on her elbow as she rested on the couch in the den. She blinked slowly as she tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness, seeing the profile of Mulder's face below her come into focus. "Nothing," she admitted. "I ... I just ..." She paused; she immediately felt Mulder's gentle touch on her waist, his large hand warm and comforting, urging her to continue. "I guess I just don't know what we'll be facing and it's frightening after what we've seen today."

"Yeah," Mulder agreed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "It's very frightening."

"Where will it end, Mulder? Will it even end?"

"I have to believe it will, Dana. I have to believe that there's hope."

"The children?"

He nodded. "Somehow, I feel like they are the key."

"William has stirred he revelution in the people," Scully noted.

"And he'll need to continue to do so," Mulder agreed. "His wisdom will guide the people. But the undoing will be because of Max and Emma."

"It's so dangerous, Mulder."

"I feel like despite that, they can overcome this."

"Yes, but how much danger are William and Cara willing to expose them to? I think if anything else happens, William will have a complete breakdown. I can't see him surviving any other tragedies."

"I don't think there will be any for right now," Mulder explained, gaining Scully's attention. "I mean, they've failed to do what they set out to do with Cara-"

"Mulder, she's far from out of the woods," Scully objected.

"Yes, but even still, she's fighting, Scully," Mulder reminded. "She's still got the will to fight, which is what the Black Lunged Bastard is trying to destroy. If we can all keep our wills to go on, then we retain the power. That's what William needs to rally the people to do."

"How will he rally them without exposing Cara or the children?"

"He managed to do it once," Mulder noted. "I'm sure he can do it again."

"But how?"

Mulder sat up fully and drew Scully close, kissing her, the taste of her lips the only thing in the world that could soothe his weariness, heal his brokenness and give him back his power. "He will," he whispered, rejoining his lips to hers, she willingly moving under him with desire.

"But," she whispered, "how?" She was still confused, her breath soft against his face as she kept her mouth close.

He wove his fingers into her russet hair, admiring the way the years had graced her so sensually with maturity yet her nature was still young, questioning, longing for answers, seeking the truth. "Love," he whispered. He adored the way her eyebrow lifted, his fingers supporting the back of her head as they massaged her scalp.

"Faith ..." Scully began, her voice soft with realization and recognition. "Hope ... and love ..."

"But the greatest of these is love," Mulder murmured against her mouth.

* * *

8:19 AM MST

Cara stirred against Will, who immediately woke from the slight disruption. He had felt on edge and was barely able to sleep, his concern for her as well as for the war that was being waged seeming to grow faster than he could reasonably handle. He had just returned back to bed only an hour or so before after taking in another broadcast from the Censure with reluctance. "Will?" she murmured, her eyes opening gently.

"Yeah?" he asked, his arms still wrapped around her as they had been all night.

"What's wrong?"

He laughed. "You woke up to ask me what's wrong?"

"Well, I was going to ask what time it was, but seeing your face, I'd rather know how you're doing."

"I'm alright."

"Sure," Cara muttered.

"I am ... I'm alright. How are you?" Will asked.

"Better. I feel human at least. I know I'd feel even more normal with a shower."

"I bet. Me too, actually."

"Will, who is the woman with Cyrus?" Cara asked quietly.

"Ahh, we get to the heart of things now," Will teased, kissing her cheek.

"No, I-"

"I'm teasing," he assured. "Her name is Christina Harrison." He paused, waiting for Cara's reaction that came quickly after she processed the information.

"Seriously?" she gasped. "The same Chrissie ... that was Tess' ...?"

"Yeah," Will replied. "The same one."

"God, what are the odds of that?"

"Slim, I'd imagine."

"Where did you find her?"

"Cyrus and Dad found her on a campus we stopped at while you were out. We were trying to track down a source for the vaccine."

The virus, the bees. "Will, have there been any more deaths?"

He nodded grimly. "Many, according to the broadcast early this morning," he said with bitterness.

She looked up at her husband, reaching for her face to stroke it gently. "How do we stop them?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he replied, sighing. "I think we still have to rally the people together to gain their trust and strength."

"They'll panic with this new infection."

"Actually, think about it, Cara. I think the Censure did one too many things with this latest move." Will adjusted so he could see Cara better as they laid together. "I think people are going to get suspicious if they aren't already."

"How do you figure?"

"Well, consider this - why, with every 'sudden' illness there is does the Censure alone seem to have the answers, and so quickly at that?"

Cara nodded slowly, agreeing. "You're right," she whispered. "We could expose them through their greed."

"That's what I'm hoping," Will whispered. He kissed her forehead, sighing against her skin. "I'm so glad you're alright," he said, his hands sliding over her back lovingly.

"I know what everyone did to help me must have been far greater than I can comprehend," she admitted. "No one moreso than you, though."

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"I know you would. It scares me."

"Then stay away from bees, alright?" Will teased.

"Sure," Cara grinned. "I've got no problem with that."

* * *

It was a little while later when the entire group gathered, enjoying showers and breakfast at leisure while they caught up with each other or aquainted themselves with the Hosteen clan as Cyrus and Christina needed to. John Hosteen was anxious to meet with them without the presence of the children, though the rapid growth of the little ones did intrigue him.

"Mommy," Max said, seeing his mother still leaning on his father, the strength not fully back in her body just yet. "Why can't we talk with Grandpa John?"

"He wants to talk to you and Emma separately," Cara explained. "He's got something important to share with both of you."

"Really?" Max asked, excited.

"Really." Cara smiled. "Why don't you and Emma go in River's room and have some fun, okay?"

"Okay!" Max agreed, taking his sister's hand. "Come on, Emmie!" he urged as they followed an excited River into the room down the hall, the door shutting quickly.

"Shima," John said, smiling at her with pride. "You are a wonderful mother, as we all knew you would be."

"Thanks," Cara murmured, looking down slightly to avoid his eyes.

"Why do you doubt it?" John asked.

"I ..." She sighed. "I just ... Their lives have been so incredibly hard. I wish for better for them."

John nodded. "You and Young Fox will make it so," he agreed. He saw her meet his eyes curiously. "You remember the story of the Sun, the Changing Woman, and the twins, Monster Slayer and Born of Water, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Well, allow me then to remind you of the twins' power, the lightning they carry."

"The lightning?" Will asked. "You mean the lightning that will strike from coast to coast?"

John nodded. "Yes. This has been told for many, many generations as being a sign of the end." He smiled widely. "But for us, it will be the sign of a new beginning, a new earth that will grow strong and be rich in abundant fertility." His eyes fell on Christina, his gaze warm. "You have much faith, young lady," he complimented. "It is this faith that has kept you alive. The heavens will shower down many voices of wisdom - it is up to all of us to listen to the advice they give." He shifted his gaze to Cyrus. "Many of us doubt, or harbor anger for what cannot be changed. The creation of this new world depends on our ability to adapt and adjust, to change our weaknesses into powerful strengths."

"What of the lightning?" Mulder asked.

"Ah, yes," John smiled. "Just like Fox to want the heart of the story." The others who knew him well laughed softly, knowing it was Mulder's nature like John had said. "Well, Fox, our story begins with thunderbirds - powerful, supernatural creatures who live on the top of mountains, existing to serve The Sun." John nodded to Will at the reference. "Thunderbirds are large birds capable of creating storms and thundering while they fly. Clouds are joined together by their wingbeats, the sound of thunder made by their wings clapping. Lightning is the light flashing from their eyes when they blink, and individual lightning bolts made by the glowing snakes that they carry around with them.

"Thunderbirds represent power, provision, expansiveness, transformation, divine dominion, indomitable spirit and unquestioned authority, and they carry messages from the otherworlds. They are an omen of war, a sign of the spirits warring in the skies. They foretell victory when ritual ceremonies are reverently adhered to.

"Thunderbirds are a symbol of creation - they mark the separation between the heavens and the earth. They are the dominating force of all natural activity and must be honored and appeased at all cost. They are the bringers of life-giving water.

"I've been told stories of the thunderbirds waging constant battle with a massive water serpent. This horned serpent is said to be very evil and wishes ill-will against humankind. To battle it, the thunderbirds dive into the waters, seeking out the serpent to rid it from the waters to protect the humans. The battles between the thunderbirds and the serpent are what make the waters rage and what causing storms to come to be."

John paused. "Fox, Dana, Shima, Christina and Cyrus - each of you are the thunderbirds that have been chosen to create the storm of change. You each have a unique wingbeat, each joining together to create the storm that will overtake the serpent. Knowing this, it is each of your responsibilities to follow the Sun in his journey to spread light over the nation, protecting him and carrying out his will for the battle."

John leaned back in his seat. "Your beautiful children, William, are the lightning bolts which will defeat the serpent once he is drug up from the depths of the water he hides in. Their destiny is to slay the serpent, the monster that roams the earth and kills the people, healing the water and cleansing it for the generations to come."

"How?" Cara asked softly.

"In the same way young Maddox heals the good, he will destroy the evil. And in the same way young Emma destroys the evil, she will heal the good."

"Are they in danger?" Will questioned, a worried look spread over his face as he clutched Cara's hand.

With a smile, John shook his head. "Not so long as the thunderbirds are ready for the battle," he replied. His eyes shifted to the rest of the group. "There is a darkness that needs to be quelled in order for the destiny to be fulfilled in one here. There is forgiveness that needs to come in order for the power, the union to be great." He looked back to Will. "The Sun is responsible for pouring light, not masking it or taking it." He looked over at Cyrus. "The thunderbird is responsible for carrying that light, and is trusted to keep it."

The two young men looked at each other with hesitence, each unwilling to erase the vivid memories of their past encounters. "Change cannot begin if there is no healing in those going to heal," John warned. "The past must be cleansed in order for the future to be prepared."

John's laugh was musical, warmer than any sound they each ever heard. "There is great love among each of you. The future is fertile in the ground that is being prepared." His eyes fell over the women slowly. "Some soil is more fertile than is realized." Each of their faces shifted with contemplation, fairly certain they knew what John was insinuating but uncomfortable with the possibility. "There is no shame in it," John assured. "It is natural and desired. It is part of the future as much as anything else."

There was a quiet hush over the group as they thought on the things John so wisely shared with them. "I think I know what needs to be done," Will announced, everyone's ears perking up. He looked first to Mulder, then to Cara. "We need to bring the fight to the enemy. We need to bring the people to the truth." Will looked over at Cyrus, giving him a small nod. "I need as many thunderbirds as I can get," he noted with respect, silently letting him know he wished to bury the hatchet.

Cyrus understood, giving him a genuine nod of agreement. "I'm with you all the way," he replied. The interaction made Cara smile; she squeezed Will's hand in happiness.

"Christina," Will said gently, "I know ... you haven't barely even known any of us-"

"It's okay, William," Christina interrupted with a smile. "I've known my destiny was to fight against evil for all of my life. I'm behind you and your family no matter what." Will's smile of gratitude didn't distract her from feeling for Cyrus' hand under the table, catching the way he held his breath as he slowly tightened his grip around hers. They exchanged a quick look, Cyrus' darkness rising within as he remembered what Christina was yet unaware of, the guilt paining him deeply.

"Mom ... Dad ..." Will looked to his parents, who laughed with soft smiles on their faces for their son.

"What, you think we're too old to fight?" Mulder teased.

"I know Mom is fine," Will teased, "but it's you I'm worried about."

Mulder snorted. "Hah! I've been doing this for longer than you've been alive."

The mood was light as Will looked at his wife next to him, raising her hand he held to his lips and kissing it. "Cara," he whispered, his eyes closing with struggle.

"No, Will," she whispered, Cara's hand finding Will's face. "I said until death do we part - and I meant it." She kissed his cheek. "It's high time you let me be your partner again, anyway."

Will grinned. "I've missed you next to me." They kissed gently. "There's no one better for the job."

"Then it's settled," Mulder announced with a nod. "We're taking the show on the road."

"A regular Partridge Family," Cyrus teased.

The group took a deep collective breath, each person contemplating what waited for them ahead at the last leg of the journey to the end. They knew there would be struggle, they knew there would be joys among pain.

What they didn't know, what they couldn't prepare for, was the impact their battle would have over the fate of mankind. The future was in each of their hands - now it was time to fight for it.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED IN THE FINAL BOOK**  
**"BELIEVE"**  
**COMING SOON!**


	22. Acknowledgements

I'd like to thank everyone who has made it this far in the series! Book #5 is complete, and only one more remains, which is entitled "Believe" and will be coming very soon!

While I am sad to leave the characters I've made here behind, I am also looking forward to brand-new beginnings with my original novel entitled "Purity" that is due to be e-published in January 2015! It is a piece that is inspired by many facets of literature and arts and is a modern dystopic re-telling of a beautiful Greek tragedy entitled "Antigone" - a story of loyalty, family, courage and justice. For more about my new works, please follow me on Twitter (LyndseyGoehrig), and I will soon have an author page on Facebook as well, so search for me there!

Thanks again for the support - I hope you each are ready to believe in new beginnings, because our series is set to carve out an exciting journey toward the future!


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